


The Danger inside of Me

by aworldoflis



Series: Danger!verse [2]
Category: Glee
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-16
Updated: 2013-07-30
Packaged: 2017-11-29 12:57:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 26
Words: 113,379
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/687216
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aworldoflis/pseuds/aworldoflis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>(sequel to The Danger inside of You) For over three years, Blaine has kept his HIV positive status from Kurt, and after Kurt finds out in the worst possible way, he and Blaine have to try to find a new balance in their lives. But when the guy responsible for Blaine's seroconversion shows up again, Kurt realizes the clock is ticking if he's serious about getting Blaine back.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> **Warnings** : angst, chronic illness, references to unprotected sex. I also have been accused of Mercedes bashing in this story, and though I don't agree, if you're a big 'Cedes fan maybe proceed with caution?  
>  **Story notes** : original canon timeline in which Blaine was a senior and Kurt a junior when they met, although Blaine is actually two years older - he transferred to Dalton when he was a senior in public school, but due to the difference in academic demands plus some... trouble... he ended up repeating his junior year. Kurt never transferred back to McKinley after Dalton, first rooming with Blaine and then with Nick.
> 
>  **A/N** : Repost of the story I started publishing last year here on AO3. It is a WIP but is only missing a few chapters. The first chapter is a prologue from the POV of Nick Warbler, to set the scene for those who didn't read the prequel, and refresh the minds for those who did a while ago. If you come here straight from TDIOY, you can just skip to the second (well, first) chapter if you'd like.  
> As should be clear from the summary, Blaine is HIV positive. This does not mean he's sick, or dying, or suffering in any way - the story is first and foremost about two people trying to rebuild their relationship after the weight of a too-big secret has destroyed it. To the best of my knowledge, any and all medical information is accurate.  
> And last, but not least, a shout out to my beta [Sarah](http://hopingtobefree.tumblr.com), who may possibly be the best beta in the universe, who has made this story so much better and whose enthusiasm has kept me going through everything. I am so happy to know you.

The first time any of us saw Blaine, he looked like a train wreck. I'm saying this jokingly, now, but I assure you every head turned in his direction when he walked through that hallway the first day: one half of his face a sickening yellowish green, the kind of bruise that looks bad enough as it is while you know it is really just a faint reminder of something that was much, much worse. A deep cut above his left eye. A faint limp. A wince of pain every time he so much as took a deep breath.

He looked exactly like the kind of guy several boys at Dalton had tried to get away from.

Lucky for us, he wasn't.

He was stubborn, though, and often moody, and he didi have quite a bit of a temper, but he was also good-looking, and he could be charming and nice if he wanted to be, and even without trying he soon became one of the most popular students. He never made a secret of being gay, and even though he never talked about how he had gotten so badly injured, we all assumed there was a connection between the two, and that that was the reason he had transferred. In retrospect, I guess you could say that was true, although in a more roundabout way than most of us had thought it was.

When Blaine transferred, literally in the middle of the first semester, he came in as a senior, but he'd either missed a substantial amount of time at his previous school or the level had just been that much lower, because after a week or two he switched to junior year. Secretly, the Warblers were happy because it meant they got to keep him for another year, and initially Blaine himself didn't seem to mind that much, but as the end of the school year came near he became even moodier than usual. Mr. Prim, our P.E. teacher, got him into boxing -after a lot of discussing back and forth with his parents, apparently, who seemed to be incredibly worried he'd hurt himself- and that helped somewhat, but I remember us hoping a long, relaxed, summer would do him good, and come September he'd be back to the charming, dapper, guy we knew he could be.

But he wasn't.

On the contrary, even.

To make matters worse he got sick - he got migraines, was often dizzy, ... We all urged him to go home, to get rest, but he flat out refused. Even during the weekends, and even if his parents didn't live that far away, he stayed at school, no matter how sick he got. And then, when he finally seemed to start recovering somewhat, two things happened.

The first thing was Kurt, and if you weren't there it's hard to describe exactly what it was he did to Blaine - even we, who saw him on a day-to-day basis, could hardly believe the effect Kurt had. It wasn't as if Blaine suddenly became a ray of sunshine, puking rainbows and unicorns everywhere he went, but he was a lot calmer, a lot more patient. Especially after Kurt transferred, it seemed like taking Kurt under his wing was the purpose Blaine had missed before: something he could focus on, a goal to be achieved.

Needless to say it didn't take long for the betting pools to start up. Which is why we were all the more surprised when thing number two happened.

Jeremiah.

He came out of nowhere, but Blaine absolutely wanted to serenade him, and we all wanted to see him happy, so we went along with it: we performed a GAP attack, and Blaine got a date. Which ended... badly.

As usual, Blaine never told anyone what went wrong - simply locked himself up in his room for a week. He missed Warbler practice. Not even Kurt could get him out of his funk, and the Warbler Council started freaking out big time because we needed Blaine for Regionals. But then, one day, he walked into the Warbler Commons, a big smile on his face, as if nothing had happened, and things went back to normal. More or less, at least.

Blaine wasn't the same after that. He got even more dapper, more charming, more polite, and while none of that seemed like a bad thing at first, he also became a little... emptier in a way, although I think that, outside of the Warblers, nobody knew him well enough to notice. Similarly, his relationship with Kurt became more distant and warmer both at the same time, but Blaine graduated and left for NYU without them getting actually together. To this day I don't know where the betting money went.

This is probably the point where I need to make a confession. See, when Kurt transferred, he became my roommate, and I think it's fair to say we became quite close. Not as close as he was to Blaine, obviously. Or rather, unfortunately. For me. Since I was pretty much head over heels for him since day one. In my defense, I was really respectful. I never told him. I definitely never pressured him. But I definitely didn't hold back when he kissed me at the Halloween party senior year, either.

We dated for most of our senior year which, given we were still sharing a room, resulted in a much-less-than-average number of hours of sleep. We were 17 and we were each other's first boyfriend, after all. I don't remember exactly how we broke up, it just kind of happened, even though we still remained close after. We even talked about getting a place together in New York, but in the end I went on dorms, and Kurt moved in with Blaine. I couldn't blame him: Blaine's parents owned the apartment, and when Blaine's brother Gary moved out to live with his boyfriend, Kurt could take over his room for a quarter of the price he'd have paid elsewhere.

And so the betting pools were opened again.

D-Day turned out to be March 11, and while we were all happy for them, I think it's safe to say our main reaction was relief. Even if they wouldn't let go of each other unless really necessary, all the PDA was definitely better than the longing looks and smoldering glances we'd had to endure before that.

Unfortunately, it didn't last long. Just a little under two months, to be exact.

Kurt called me on a Sunday early May, in panic. He didn't make much sense to me at first, saying he'd spend the day at the hospital and had thrown Blaine out, so I just went over, to try to calm him down and get the whole story. Which turned out to be a whole lot more complicated than I had anticipated.

Of course, I only know the story as Kurt told it to me, but apparently they had gone to a party the night before where Blaine had gotten drunk, very drunk even, so when they got home, he was quite a bit more handsy than usual. Not that Kurt minded - he'd complained to me more than once about how Blaine was extremely reluctant to take things one step further (or really, anywhere at all) in the bedroom. And so, things went down, that night. Unprotected things. Which shouldn't have been a problem - Kurt and I had been each other's first and only, and we'd always been safe, and in the four years that I had known Blaine he had never had a boyfriend.

As it turns out a careless one night stand at 16 is all it takes to become HIV positive.

Blaine's one night stand had been with Brad, a friend of his brother Gary, who had traded him his virginity for the virus. It was the reason Blaine had been so beat up when he first transferred. It was the reason the date with Jeremiah had gone so horribly wrong. It was the reason his parents hadn't wanted him to take up boxing. It was the reason why he'd been so sick starting senior year. It was the reason why Blaine had held back on dating Kurt for so long. It was the reason why he hadn't been willing to have sex with Kurt.

He had never told anyone.

The morning after the party, when Kurt filled in the blanks in Blaine's memory and Blaine realized what had happened, he rushed Kurt to the hospital, got him tested and put on therapy. As soon as they got home, Kurt and him got into a fight, Kurt threw him out, and called me.

I have to admit I was about ready to tear Blaine's head off that afternoon, even after Kurt told me he would only be on therapy for a month, and that there was a reasonable chance he would not get infected. I'm sure Rachel, Mercedes, and Kurt's parents felt the same way, and I still think Blaine was lucky Finn wasn't told because he was away on military training at that moment and they didn't want him to give that up - which he most likely would have had he heard what had happened. As it was, however, Kurt made us all promise we wouldn't tell anyone else and after a week he let Blaine come back.

Three weeks later he stopped therapy.

Two months after that he was declared fit, healthy, and HIV negative.

And now, almost five months later, Kurt and Blaine are still trying to pick up the pieces of their relationship.


	2. Chapter 1

"Okay, guys, I'm gonna get going," Mercedes says as she lifts herself from the picnic blanket. There's a vague murmur of protest from the others, although nobody seems inclined to actively try to stop her, lazy as they are from lying around in the sun all afternoon on the roof of one of the NYADA dorms, bellies full after what Rachel had pompously dubbed their Annual End-of-Summer-Barbecue - even if in reality it had been one of Blaine's spontaneous ideas.

And so it isn't until Mercedes walks past them to grab her bag that David realizes she's serious about leaving.

"Come on!" he all but whines, reaching out to grab the hem of her pants. "The party's only just starting!"

Mercedes just starts laughing, pointing towards the others who have barely moved an inch in the last hour.

"I don't know if you've looked around you," she says in amusement, "but I think the party's actually over."

She giggles when David tugs at her pants again, trying to swat away his hands as she struggles to keep standing and not lose her clothes in the process, but David's not about to give up that easily.

"Just half an hour more then!" he pleads. "We haven't even talked yet, come on, what harm can half an hour do?"

"First of all, we've been here since 11 - we've talked plenty," Mercedes sticks out her tongue as she finally manages to get out of David's reach. "And secondly, seeing as Sam is getting up early just so we can Skype before he has to go to work - a lot."

It's the mention of Sam -maybe far away in Australia but clearly not forgotten- that shuts David up more than anything else. It's hard to say which is more painful: the silence that follows or the look in David's eyes as he watches Mercedes gather her things, and Kurt, who's been watching the exchange from the corner of his eye, feels his heart go out to David, who seems to be cursed with falling in love with unavailable girls for as long as Kurt can remember.

But Mercedes' remark about the time makes him look at his own watch, and when he sees it's already past 5 o'clock, he pushes himself up on his elbows, sticking out his foot to poke at Blaine who's lying on the other side of the blanket.

"Come on - up, you!" he says. "Mercedes is right, we've been here for ages. And we really need to do some shopping, our fridge is about as empty as Sarah Palin's head."

Blaine groans, crossing his arms over his head, obviously reluctant to get up.

"Can't we do that tomorrow?"

"Not unless you're planning to miss the McQueen exhibition you promised to take me to," Kurt says sternly, "and besides, that wouldn't solve the dinner problem we have for tonight."

The mention of dinner finally gets Blaine moving, but Rachel gasps.

"You're seriously going to have dinner after this? God - I'm still so full I can hardly move!"

She winces as she puts her hands on her stomach, and Kurt rolls his eyes in response.

"I would agree, but you're going to need more than a late barbecue to get Blaine to skip dinner," he tells her.

"What?" David bursts out, temporarily forgetting about Mercedes as his eyes dart between Kurt and Blaine. "You mean he still hasn't grown out of his '6 o'clock dinner time' obsession?"

He rolls back in laughter as Blaine throws himself at him, leaving Rachel to shoot confused looks between them, a grinning Jeff, and a resigned-looking Kurt.

" _6 o'clock dinner time_?" she asks hesitantly, a clear look of confusion on her face.

"It's a good time to have dinner!" Blaine tries defend to himself as he looks back at Rachel over his shoulder, but he quickly regrets it when David uses his moment of distraction to turn him over and pin him down, putting an end to their struggle.

"Maybe so, but it's no reason to take a whole bus hostage!" he tells Blaine mockingly before he turns his head towards Rachel, who looks positively astonished by now.

"Blaine is very particular about dinner," David starts explaining. "Case in point: one time we were coming back from some competition and we were supposed to be back at Dalton by dinner time, but there was some accident or something, I don't even remember. Anyway - we got stuck in traffic. It turned half past five, and then six, and Blaine started freaking out big time."

"I was hungry!" Blaine squeals from below David, but it only earns him more laughter.

"Hungry?" David asks him. " _Hungry_? Blaine, you forced the bus driver to take the nearest exit and get you to McDonald's, I think you were more than a little bit hungry!"

The whole group bursts out laughing and even Kurt, who's heard the story more than once before, can't help but grin along.

"I still don't understand how you even got him to do that," Jeff says, shaking his head.

"Serenaded him with Katy Perry?" Mercedes offers, and she winks at Blaine as he finally manages to crawl from under David.

" _Threatened_ to serenade him with Katy Perry, more likely," Kurt corrects her, smirking. It earns him a not-so-playful push against his shoulder from Blaine.

"Oh come on, pretty, that's just mean!"

For a split second, the whole group sits paralyzed, and it takes Blaine not even half that time to realize his mistake. But the words are out, and Kurt can feel the burn in his cheeks rise when he sees everybody slowly turn to look at him. The girls seem just as shocked as he is, but both David and Jeff are grinning, their eyebrows raised in amusement as if they're finally seeing one of their suspicions confirmed. Which, Kurt realizes, they probably think is the case. Because with only Mercedes, Rachel and Nick knowing the whole story behind their break-up, it had proven hard to explain to the rest of their friends exactly why their relationship had ended. ' _We just didn't work as a couple_ ' didn't seem to cut it, especially since they were still living together, and even now, five months down the road, insinuations and references to him and Blaine either dating secretly or getting together again sooner or later were never far away. That things weren't always that simple, that you couldn't just have drunk, unprotected sex with your shiny new boyfriend and wake up to be rushed to the hospital for a month of intensive therapy because said boyfriend forgot to mention the fact he was HIV positive. And even if you end up not being infected, you can't move on as if nothing happened, and you can't explain to your friends what happened without revealing Blaine's secret. And despite everything that has happened between them, Kurt simply can't do that to Blaine.

"Well, guys, I'm going!" Mercedes suddenly breaks the awkward silence, sounding overly cheerful, and Kurt shoots her a grateful look.

"Right," he gladly takes the cue, "so are we. Rachel, thank you for having us!"

He stands up and quickly hugs Rachel goodbye, desperate to cleanse the air after Blaine's slip-up. Blaine is scrambling up too, he sees, and he moves on to say goodbye to the others before he grabs his bag. He turns around just in time to see Blaine saying goodbye to Mercedes - and freezes.

The two of them are standing almost three feet apart, shaking hands as they exchange polite smiles, and it takes almost more willpower than Kurt can muster to keep himself from throwing a fit right there and then.

.

"What the hell was  _that_ about?" he all but yells at Blaine as soon as they're out of earshot.

"I'm sorry!" Blaine immediately starts pleading, arms open and palms facing upwards, a guilty look in his eyes. "It just slipped out, I'm sorry, it won't happen again, promise!"

But Kurt pushes at his shoulder impatiently, causing Blaine to almost bump against the lady who was walking next to them. It earns him a poisonous look from her, but Kurt ignores it.

"Not  _that_ \- Mercedes!"

Surprised, Blaine raises his eyebrows, and Kurt sighs as it becomes clear he has to elaborate.

"What was with the handshake?" he repeats insistently. "Ever since when don't you guys hug anymore?"

In an instant the apologetic look on Blaine's face is gone, and he looks away, increasing their pace just a little.

"I'm not that much of a hugger," he says, but even though his voice sounds indifferent, Kurt can see his jaw clench.

"You're a cuddle whore and you know it," he points out. "And you hugged Rachel."

"Only because she would throw a fit if I wouldn't," Blaine retorts. "Besides, she always gives me a heads up before, makes all the difference."

They round the corner towards the little supermarket they usually go to, and Kurt shoots Blaine a dubious look. There's something Blaine's not telling him, he  _knows_ it, because between his unwillingness to give Kurt a straight up answer and the way he seems to try to defend Mercedes, things simply do not add up.

"I thought we were past the secret-keeping stage here, Blaine," he says as he feels his annoyance slowly turn into anger. "So don't lie to me here - I distinctly remember you hugging Mercedes on more than one occasion. So seriously, what was up with that handshake?"

If the way Blaine rushes into the supermarket, still avoiding Kurt's gaze as he takes a basket doesn't make it clear how desperately he wants to avoid the subject, his next question certainly does.

"Eggplant or asparagus?" he asks, holding both items up.

But Kurt is all but impressed.

"Blaine," he says warningly, folding his arms. " _Handshake_. And asparagus isn't in season right now. "

"I don't know," Blaine shrugs simply, but he still refuses to look straight at Kurt. "I think she just hasn't quite forgiven me yet for lying to you, you know? Eggplant it is then. Did you want tomatoes too?"

"I don't care about tomatoes, Blaine!" Kurt exclaims, taking Blaine by the wrist and forcing his hand down to prevent him from grabbing a box of tomatoes anyway. "Did Mercedes  _tell_ you she was still mad at you?"

Kurt can see Blaine bite his cheek, obviously debating with himself whether or not to tell Kurt the truth, and it takes a couple of seconds before he replies.

"No," he admits softly.

"But she told you something, didn't she?"

It's not a question, not really. Even if Blaine had been able to keep secrets from him before, Kurt can still tell if something is wrong, can still feel it if Blaine is trying to avoid talking about something. And it's exactly Blaine's reluctance to talk about it that scares Kurt, because Blaine acting like this can only mean one of two things: either he  _knows_ that Kurt won't like what he has to say, or he's  _afraid_ Kurt won't like what he's about to say. The problem with the latter option is that Blaine knows him so well he's rarely wrong.

It only strengthens Kurt in his conviction that he needs to know.

"What. did she. tell you, Blaine?"

A beat, and then Blaine finally looks up, taking a deep breath.

"She asked me to keep some distance between us. Physically," he adds when he sees Kurt frown in confusion. It still takes Kurt some time before the reality behind the words sinks in, though.

"She... _what?_ "

"Please, Kurt, keep your voice down!" Blaine hisses at him, eyes darting around to see some of the other customers looking at them curiously, but Kurt hardly cares, because for all the scenario's that had been playing around in his head, this had not been one of them.

"Are you telling me she's afraid to  _hug_ you?" he hisses back, although the lack of volume does nothing to hide the anger in his voice. "She honestly told you tha-"

"No, she didn't, she simply asked to keep some distance between us, that's all," Blaine tells him, holding him by his forearms, eyes pleading. "Just let it go, please, it's not a big deal."

"Not a big deal? Not a  _big deal_?" Kurt shrieks, now causing more than just a few people to turn their head at them. "She flat out told you she doesn't want you to touch her! Just because... because... no reason! She has  _no reason_ , Blaine!"

"Actually, she does," Blaine says with a calm Kurt simply cannot wrap his head around right now, and he lets himself be pulled into a quiet corner where they will draw less attention. "Sure, you can discuss its validity, but she does have a reason. She has every right to set her own boundaries, Kurt, and if she prefers to say goodbye to me by shaking hands instead of giving me a kiss or a hug, that's perfectly fine."

But Kurt is fuming, and he can't imagine Blaine believes his own words even for just a second.

"It's not  _fine_ , Blaine, how can you say that? It's discrimination, that's what it is!"

"It's  _human_ , Kurt," Blaine tells him patiently, and Kurt can't decide who he's more angry with at the moment - Mercedes for asking Blaine not to hug or kiss her, or Blaine for seemingly refusing to acknowledge it as a problem. But Blaine's still talking.

"You're making a rational issue out of an emotional one, Kurt," he says, "and you're blowing it out of proportion. It's not like she doesn't want to be friends anymore, or refuses to talk to me. She just..."

He hesitates, licking his lips.

"... doesn't want to touch you?" Kurt supplies helpfully, his voice dripping with sarcasm. He remembers Blaine telling him about the people at his old school finding out, about his own parents shying away from him, remembers how his heart had gone out to Blaine for having to suffer through that then, and he can feel his heart break now, too. But it's worse this time, because now they're not talking about some abstract parents he'd barely met once, they're not talking about a bunch of stupid sixteen year-olds who didn't know any better - they're talking about  _Mercedes_ , one of his best friends, who most certainly knows better, and for a moment he wonders if she would have asked him the same thing if he had ended up positive, too.

He shakes his head in determination.

"No way, I'm not letting her do that to you. I'm gonna talk to her and-"

"No," Blaine cuts him off before he can finish his sentence.

"But-"

"Tell me you would kiss me."

Blaine has let go of Kurt, but he's looking at him so intently it's impossible for Kurt to look away.

"You've read the pamphlets," Blaine says calmly, almost defiantly, "you talked to the doctors. There's no harm in kissing, you know that. Rationally. So tell me, honestly, that you would not hesitate to kiss me, right here, right now."

"B-but we're not-" Kurt protests weakly.

"Irrelevant," Blaine cuts him off again.

It's all Kurt can do to simply stare at Blaine as the words slowly sink in, and he finds his eyes drift towards Blaine's lips.

He knows how they feel. Even if it's been five months since he's kissed them, he remembers exactly how Blaine's mouth felt against his own, how easily it moved together with his, and suddenly the want to kiss Blaine is almost overwhelming. The flushing pink of Blaine's lips seem to invite him in, but even as he starts to lean in he knows he can't do it. Because it's there. Right there, just below the surface, in the very blood that's responsible for that warm, familiar shade of pink, right there is where the virus is hiding, separated from Kurt by nothing but a thin layer of skin.

Kurt looks back up, opening his mouth to speak, but nothing comes out and he closes it again, tears swelling in his eyes when he sees the look that crosses over Blaine's face. It's not so much anger as it is disappointment, as if he'd expected Kurt to react this way but had still hoped he wouldn't. Somehow that only makes it worse, and Kurt tears his gaze away from Blaine's, defeated.

"It's not..." Blaine starts, taking Kurt's face in his hands to make him look at him when he sees the crushed look in Kurt's eyes. "It's okay, you hear? It's okay."

But it's not okay - Kurt knows it, and Blaine knows it. It's far from okay, and Kurt wants to scream, because this wasn't how it was supposed to go. Things were supposed to be easier, now that everything is out in the open, now that they know that Kurt's no longer at risk of seroconverting. But instead it seems things only get more complicated with every day that goes by, where decisions that had once seemed simple and straightforward suddenly grow into life-altering dilemmas.

Blaine seems to understand what's going on in his head, because he strokes his thumb reassuringly over Kurt's cheek before he continues.

"You have to know this, Kurt, and you will have to learn to deal with this. When people find out about me, they will have some kind of reaction. It may be good, or bad, and yes, when it's bad it hurts. But the point is - it's their call. You can't make them react good. Remember when you came out first, and when people reacted badly you got all upset? What would you do if that would happen now?"

Kurt shrugs and huffs at the ridiculous question, sticking his chin in the air.

"Please, I'm fabulous. If they don't want to see that it's their loss, not mine."

"Exactly," Blaine smiles. "And this, this is coming out all over again. Although contrarily to being gay, HIV actually is contagious."

The bluntness of the joke -and was that even a joke?- makes Kurt's breath hitch in his throat, and suddenly he realizes that this had to be one of the reasons why Blaine had never told anyone about his status, why he had been so scared to even tell Kurt. The worst part is that Kurt cannot in all honesty say he wouldn't have reacted the way Mercedes is if Blaine had told him earlier.

"I don't need to hug someone or kiss them to be able to be their friend, Kurt," Blaine interrupts his thoughts. "So  _you're_ not gonna say a word about this to Mercedes,  _she's_ gonna continue to make me cry with that massive voice of hers, and we're  _all_ gonna live happily ever after, ok?"

Kurt's smile is a little hesitant, and not completely genuine -the way Blaine called him out on the hypocrisy of his anger towards Mercedes still stings-, but it's a smile nevertheless, and Blaine seems to take it.

"Now," he says, linking his arm through Kurt's as he leads him towards the freezers, "as far as I remember, we haven't actually decided on dessert for tonight, so... what would you say about some Chocolate Fudge Brownie?"

"Ben&Jerry's?" Kurt gasps, swatting at Blaine's arm. "Why do you have to remind me of the existence of Ben&Jerry's?"

"Because it's delicious," Blaine replies, bringing them to a halt in front of the B&J freezer, "and because it's the best way to distract you."

"It's also the best way to get greasy skin," Kurt protests, although he doesn't make any attempt to stop Blaine when he opens the door to take out a large container of their favorite ice cream.

"Aha, but I have been told that greasy skin is a shortcut to no wrinkles, so where does that leave us?"

Blaine winks at Kurt, wiggling his eyebrows as he lets the box of ice cream dance temptingly in front of Kurt, and Kurt smiles back at him fondly.

"With too much ice cream," he tells Blaine with playful patience, taking the container out of Blaine's hands to replace it with a smaller one, sticking his tongue out at Blaine's pout as he walks away to go find their abandoned basket. He puts the ice cream in it, adding some lemons and a box of tomatoes on the way before he returns to Blaine, who's still standing exactly where Kurt had left him two minutes earlier, strangely unmoving.

"Blaine?"

But Blaine doesn't seem to hear him, seemingly frozen on the spot as he's staring at the other end of the aisle where a blond man is crouched on the floor, engrossed in the apparently incredibly difficult task of choosing between two bags of crisps he's holding, unaware of Blaine's attention.

"Blaine?" Kurt tries again, a little louder this time, but strangely enough it's the other man who looks up. For a moment Kurt thinks that, by some strange coincidence, his name must also be Blaine, and his suspicion seems confirmed when the man simply looks Kurt over before averting his eyes - until he catches sight of Blaine.

There's something in the way the two men are watching each other, never once looking away even as the blond stranger puts down the bags and slowly rises to his feet. He's tall, Kurt sees now, his blond curls surrounding a sharp but friendly face. He must be about their age, a little older maybe, but he's obviously a more frequent user of his fitness membership, and even if he's undeniably handsome, Kurt thinks vaguely he's more Blaine's type.

He looks back at Blaine, whose face shows a mixture of disbelief, hope and fear, as if the man is someone Blaine thought he'd never see again and he can't quite decide how he feels about running into him again. An ex-boyfriend, maybe? Kurt rejects the thought almost automatically, but when he sees a small smile appear on each of the men's faces, his heart skips a beat, and he knows who it is a fraction of a second before Blaine says it.

"Brad?"


	3. Chapter 2

"... and then they actually exchanged phone numbers!" Kurt concludes his story, a little out of breath. "And then when they said goodbye they hugged  _again_ , like they were old high school friends who hadn't seen each other in years or something."

He throws himself back against the couch in exasperation, folding his arms over his chest as he looks over at Nick defiantly, daring him to argue back, but his friend simply raises his hands in admission.

"Well... they kind of are, right?"

"What, friends?" Kurt shakes his head fervently, his voice even more high pitched than usual. "The guy gave him AIDS, Nick. AIDS. How can you be friends with someone that gave you AIDS?"

"You're being way too dramatic," Nick says soothingly. "First off, Blaine doesn't have AIDS, he's HIV positive - there's a big difference and you know that. Secondly, do you really think Blaine would've exchanged phone numbers with him if he didn't want to see the guy anymore?"

But Kurt rolls his eyes, unimpressed with Nick's attempt at calming him down.

"Please, Nick," he huffs, "you know Blaine as well as I do: he's too polite for his own damn good. If someone tried to rob him he would probably end up inviting him over for coffee. That guy ruined his life! I mean, it's because of Brad that Blaine is positive, that he got bullied and had to transfer and lost a year. It's Brad's fault he feels so uncomfortable about dating, and basically, it's because of Brad that Blaine and I broke up. Trying to be friends with someone like that is bound to end in disaster."

"Or you could say that since it's because of him that Blaine transferred to Dalton, it's  _thanks_ to him that you two actually even met," Nick reasons back. It earns him a push against his shoulder and a glare that would have been lethal had he not built up resistance over the three years he's been friends with Kurt.

"Are you seriously trying to be smart with me, Duval?"

"All I'm trying to do is get you to see things from a different perspective," Nick shrugs, looking a little indignant as he rubs over his shoulder. "And if Blaine wants to be friends with that guy then that's his business. I think you know that."

"What are you getting at?" Kurt sighs, rolling his head against the back of the couch to look at his friend. Out of the two of them Nick has always been the more reasonable one, and while that's part of the reason Kurt's talking to him right now and not to Rachel or Mercedes, it can be quite annoying when he's trying to make Kurt understand something without really telling him what it is. As he's doing now.

"I think there's another reason why you're so upset about Blaine starting to see that Brad guy again," Nick evades the question, looking at Kurt inquisitively, but Kurt refuses to take the bait.

"Such as?"

"You're jealous."

It's all Kurt can do to stare at Nick, his mouth opening and closing again while he's trying to decide whether to downright reject the accusation or simply ignore it altogether. He's saved from making an actual decision when his cellphone starts ringing, and he takes the call without even checking who it is.

"Hello?"

" _Well hello there, Lady Lips!_ "

It takes Kurt a couple of seconds before he recognizes the voice of the person on the other side of the line, and not just because his mind is still preoccupied with the previous conversation: he hasn't heard her in well over a year.

"Santana?"

Kurt's voice is equal parts confusion and annoyance, and Nick has to bite his lip to keep himself from laughing - he doesn't know Santana too well, but he knows Kurt well enough to realize that he would have taken the jealousy-conversation over a phone call with Santana any day.

" _Please, don't fall over yourself in your enthusiasm_ ," Santana snaps on the other end of the line. " _You always greet your friends like this?_ "

"Sorry to be surprised you even care after ignoring all of our calls and messages for  _a whole year_ ," Kurt bites back, meanwhile shrugging at Nick who mouthed an amused ' _why is she calling?_ '

" _Distance is supposed to make the heart grow fonder, Kurt, didn't anyone ever tell you that? Anyway - Britt and I bumped into Mike and Tina the other day, and they told us you're living the dream in New York..._ "

Kurt glances over at his desk in the corner. Barely a couple of weeks into the new school year, it is already overflowing, a large pile of sketches and an even more impressive amount of fabric samples hiding his laptop from view. It was what he wanted to do, yes, but calling it 'living the dream' was still somewhat of a stretch.

" _... and since we will be crashing the Big Apple for Halloween_ ," Santana continues, unaware of Kurt's musing, " _we decided to honor you with our company!_ "

"Are you... are you inviting yourself over?"

Kurt is barely able to hide his horror. Sure, it had been ages since he'd seen both girls and he couldn't say he hadn't missed them, but having them stay at their not-all-that-big apartment would present a challenge, at the very least. But Santana continues as if she hasn't even heard him - which, now that Kurt thinks of it, is actually very likely.

" _We'll be staying three nights, and don't even try to blow us off because I know you have a spare bedroom: Tina told me you finally managed to tame that songbird of yours! I'd say congratulations but seeing how much time it cost you it would be wildly inappropriate._ "

The reference to his relationship with Blaine makes Kurt's stomach drop, and he swallows hard. But now is not the time to be thinking about any of that, nor is Santana the person to be doing any thinking with, and he forces himself to stay calm.

"Well well, never thought I'd live to see the day where Santana Lopez would forego saying something inappropriate," he smirks. "Then again, seeing as this is also the day where she is so out of the loop she's actually not aware that Blaine and I broke up  _five months ago_ , maybe I shouldn't be so surprised."

" _Excuse me?_ "

"... and that 20/20 hearing is also a thing of the past, it seems. Oh Santana, how you've changed."

It's the easy way out, letting his sarcasm do the work, but at least Kurt feels a bit more on top of the conversation now. Unfortunately, it doesn't last long.

" _Whatever, Snow White. We land the 31st at half past three at JFK - I expect you to pick us up there. And make sure you get us into the best Halloween party in town, because we wants to get our dancing on, **entiendes**?_ "

And with that, she hangs up, leaving Kurt to stare down at the phone in his hand for a couple of seconds before he looks back up.

"So," he says, keeping his voice as neutral as he can. "Seems like we'll be having visitors for Halloween."

"Seems like you'll be sharing a bed with Blaine for three nights," Nick replies in the same casual tone, leaning back into the couch as he crosses his arms, but his eyes are twinkling.

"Don't," Kurt warns him, putting his cell phone back on the coffee table.

"Don't what?"

"Don't look at me like that. Like sharing a bed with Blaine -which I won't, by the way, they'll sleep on the couch no matter what they say- but even if I did, sharing a bed will not magically bring us together."

Nick shrugs non-committally.

"Maybe not, but it could help," he says in a suggestive tone of voice, a little smirk appearing on his face as he watches Kurt get up, but Kurt just isn't in the mood for jokes right now.

"Who says I even  _want_  help?" he replies pungently, trying to take advantage of Nick's surprise to slip past him towards the kitchen. He's just not fast enough.

"Wait a minute," Nick grabs his wrist and turns him around. "Are you seriously telling me you  _don't_ want to get back together with Blaine?"

Kurt shrugs, twisting his arm to release it from Nick's grip.

"What I'm saying is that I don't  _know_ whether I want to get back together with Blaine."

Kurt wants to take the words back as soon as they're out, because out loud they sound so much more real than they did in his head, and suddenly he's not so sure that that is what he wanted to say in the first place. But that's the thing with Blaine: Kurt isn't sure of anything anymore.

"I mean - I don't know if we  _can_ get back together." Kurt rubs his forehead, a nervous tic he's taken over from Blaine, before he looks back down at Nick. "Because I... he broke my trust, Nick. He kept this huge thing hidden from me and how do I know he won't do it again?"

"You don't," Nick tells him as he gently pulls him down onto the couch again. "You don't. That's the whole point of trusting someone, isn't it? There's no guarantee, there are no refunds: you believe that they'll treat you right, that they'll be honest with you, because you trust them."

"But  _how_?" Kurt asks, because this is the question he's been asking himself over and over again ever since Blaine said those three horrible words at the hospital all those months back. How do you regain trust that was never really there in the first place?

"Time," is Nick's simple reply. "Just give it time."

For Kurt, it's not enough.

"But I've given it time!" he exclaims frantically as he waves his arms. "I've given it plenty of time! It's been five months and still every time he comes home later than he said he would, I can't help but wonder where he was, what he did. And I can't even ask him because how will I know he's telling me the truth? I mean... am I not, like, supposed to be  _past_ this stage by now?"

But Nick slowly shakes his head.

"Kurt, you were never  _in_ that stage in the first place."

"Excuse me?"

Kurt looks positively apprehensive, and Nick shifts so that they face each other.

"What did you do after you broke up with Blaine?" he asks softly. "You fought to make it through all the pills and the counseling sessions and your  _life_ , but when did you actually take time to accept the break-up? To come to terms with everything? To talk to Blaine? You need to accept what happened before you can possibly move on, and right now you're just trying to ignore it all and get back to what you had before. But things don't work that way."

He takes Kurt's hands in his, squeezing gently.

"You need to focus on  _you_ first, for a bit, before you can deal with  _you-and-Blaine_. And it's ok not to be ok with it, you know? It's ok to take some distance, to take your time to pick up the pieces and dust them off before you start puzzling them back together. Just... give it time..."

But all Kurt can do is shake his head as he bites back the tears.

"I don't think that's gonna help, Nick. I don't think it's gonna help because, even if I get over myself, if I find a way to trust him again... he has HIV. He has HIV and how can I even..." he gulps back a sob, wiping at his nose as he tries to recompose himself. "He challenged me to kiss him, the day before yesterday, because apparently Mercedes is scared to touch him and I got mad and he challenged me to prove I wasn't scared, too. And I couldn't."

He looks up now, not even protesting when Nick wipes the tears from his cheeks. "I couldn't do it. What kind of a relationship can I offer him if I'm too scared to kiss him, let alone... let alone  _have sex_ with him?"

"Hey, hey, don't you think you're asking a little bit too much of yourself here?" Nick asks, taking Kurt's face in his hands. "What did I just tell you? One step at a time... Step one: accept what happened. Don't hide it away, or ignore it - give it a place. Step two: figure out what you want from Blaine. Being with him won't be easy, and before you jump into that you need to make sure that that's what you really want. For both your sakes."

"And then what?" Kurt asks meekly, barely able to concentrate on Nick's words for all the energy he's putting in trying to stop crying.

"And then you'll find a way," Nick tells him with more confidence than Kurt can ever imagine feeling, ducking his head to be able to look Kurt in the eyes. "Look, Kurt, Blaine cares about you - you know that. And if you want to be with him he'll wait for you. He's not going to run off with some random guy just because you need a bit more time, not even when that guy is the first guy he ever fell in love with and lost his virginity to, okay?"

Kurt cringes when he hears his fear being put to words so bluntly, and he bites his lip as he gives up on fighting back his tears.

"But what... what if-if... what... if he... does?" he sobs, frantically trying to wipe away his tears before Nick stops him and pulls him in.

"He won't," he whispers, hugging Kurt tight, "he won't. Promise."

And Kurt just lets himself be held, lets his tears run freely as he finally gives in to the fear that's been paralyzing him for so long. Fear he'll never be able to forgive Blaine, fear he'll never be able to reach that place again where he could love Blaine unconditionally, but most of all fear that someone else might take that place before he gets the chance to get back there himself. Because although he knows running away from Blaine and the secrets he's kept would hurt, the possibility of staying and losing the fight, of seeing Blaine fall for someone else hurts even more. And right now he just doesn't know if what he still feels for Blaine is strong enough to take that risk.

.

By the time Blaine comes home, Nick has already left and Kurt is squealing at a Project Runway rerun on television. His eyes are still a bit puffy, but when Blaine asks about it, clearly worried, he shakes his head.

"Nick was here and ..."

"... he made you cry?" Blaine asks, apprehensive, and despite himself, Kurt lets out a chuckle.

"Not really, no," he says, smiling up at Blaine and trying to make it look as convincing as he possibly can. "We had a... talk. One of the heavy kind."

Blaine nods slowly, dropping his satchel next to the kitchen counter, and Kurt can almost see the wheels turning in his head as he takes in Kurt's appearance: his puffy eyes, the way he's slouched against the couch, the slightly red nose; and Kurt sits up a bit straighter.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Blaine finally asks, but Kurt shakes his head. This is something he needs to figure out for himself, first, before he can possibly take it to Blaine.

"Nah, I think I've had it with talking for today," he says. "Maybe later, I just... I have a lot to think about first... Thanks, though."

He smiles again in an attempt to wipe the worried look off Blaine's face. He can see it doesn't really work, however, and so he scrambles onto his knees, placing his right hand over his heart and holding up his left, an earnest look on his face.

"I solemnly swear I won't bottle it up until I burst and I will come to talk to you if necessary." He cocks his head as he drops his arms. "Better?"

Blaine looks at him in confusion for a moment, squinting a little as he's clearly trying to gauge whether Kurt is being serious or not, but finally he lets out a small huff, shaking his head as he smiles at Kurt in amusement.

"All right," he says, holding up his hands while he walks towards Kurt. "Any non-crying inducing news from Nick then?"

He lets himself fall into the couch opposite Kurt, leaving Kurt to feel momentarily disappointed until he remembers what Nick told him - that he needs to take some time for himself first, needs to be sure about where he wants their relationship to go. Maybe putting some distance between him and Blaine, figuratively  _and_ literally, is not such a bad idea.

"Well, we're going for karaoke, if that falls under the 'news' category," he says as he settles back in the couch. "You wanna come?"

"Oh god please yes!" Blaine all but groans, throwing his head back against the couch. "I haven't sung in  _ages_!"

Kurt can't help but laugh at the staged drama.

"You sing at that restaurant place every Sunday, or did you forget about that?"

"It's not the same," Blaine objects indignantly, "we have a set list, I can't just get up and sing what I want. And it's like, once a week. It's nothing, really."

"I told you you should've taken Musical Theatre as your minor," Kurt tells him, "or at least take some course somewhere - but no, you just  _had_ to fully focus on Psychology. So don't expect me to feel sorry for you now."

"I don't," Blaine shrugs, shifting in the couch so he can lie down, throwing his arms over his head, and Kurt has to try hard not to let his gaze linger where Blaine's shirt has ridden up just a little. "I'm perfectly happy with my course schedule, but that doesn't mean I would object to more singing. So, when are you going?"

"Thursday at 7," Kurt says, and he knows it's wrong as soon as he's said it. There's a stiffening in Blaine's body, a flicker in his eyes - but when Blaine opens them again there's nothing that betrays there might be something wrong.

"Of course," he says calmly. "Thursday. Seven o'clock. No problem."

"You don't have to," Kurt says hesitantly, wondering whether he'd imagined Blaine's moment of panic after all, "if you have somewhere else you needed to be."

And there it is again: that nervous flicker, the tiniest twitch around his mouth before Blaine clears his throat.

"No no, it's ok, it's... I wanna go. I wanna go."

It sounds sincere enough, but Kurt can feel the annoyance rise in his chest. It's not that he doesn't believe Blaine actually wants to go, but he just _feels_ there is something else Blaine's not telling him. It's their discussion from two days ago all over again, and Kurt's about to give Blaine a taste of exactly  _how_ annoyed he is, when Blaine starts talking again.

"I just... I got this-  _thing_... I sometimes go to," he says slowly, purposefully, and even though his voice sounds steady, he's avoiding Kurt's eyes.

"A  _thing_?" Kurt cocks his head, not sure where this is going. "Could you be more vague?"

"A... group," Blaine clarifies, turning his head towards Kurt as he forces the words out of his mouth. "A support group. For... me. People like me, I mean. Positive people."

 _He's telling me something_ , Kurt thinks frantically,  _he's telling me something. He could have lied about it or kept it a secret. He almost did. But he didn't, he told me. On his own accord. Because he trusts me._

It still doesn't feel quite right, though, because Blaine going to a support group hardly classifies as a world-shocking confession, and it seems ridiculous for Blaine to even want to keep it from Kurt. So why did he almost? Why on earth would Kurt be opposed to Blaine going to a support group?

But then it hits him.

Kurt has had a crazy schedule over summer, what with the internship and catching up on everything and everyone he missed during finals and... well...  _that_ , obviously, so he can't be too sure whether there was a pattern of Blaine being out on Thursdays during that period. But he  _does_ remember the Thursday evening classes Blaine had had -or had claimed to have?- all through last year.

And suddenly he feels like screaming, wondering whether this is the last thing that Blaine hadn't told him or whether it's just one more item on a long list of secrets he is slowly uncovering. Still, Blaine's telling him now, spontaneously, more or less. That has to count for something, right?

> _How do I know I can trust him? - You don't._

"That's good," he hears himself say, "that you- have that. That's... good."

"You could come."

Blaine blurts out the words, and for a moment Kurt's not sure whether he heard it right - until he sees the way Blaine looks at him.

"To the group," Blaine clarifies needlessly, hesitantly searching for Kurt's eyes. "It's not just... it's for other people too. Not just- friends. Relatives."

_Partners._

He doesn't say it, but Kurt hears it anyway.

"You could come. If you wanted to."

Kurt doesn't, not really. The idea of meeting up with a group of strangers whose only connection to you is that they share one of your issues, is less than appealing to him. Save for his transfer to Dalton, talking about his problems has rarely brought him anything good, and he prefers to deal with them in the privacy of his own head. It only serves to make him realize the enormity of the invitation, though, and it's enough to make his breath hitch in his throat. Regardless of whether or not Blaine has lied about this before, he is telling Kurt  _now_ , and not only that, he is actually inviting him into that part of his life, a part Kurt knows for a fact he hasn't shared with anyone before. And even though the idea of accompanying him to the support group terrifies him to no end, he can't turn Blaine down. Not now, not when Blaine is clearly trying.

"Maybe," he nods slowly, hoping that the whirlwind of feelings he's experiencing isn't written all over his face. "I'll think about it."


	4. Chapter 3

It isn't until later that week that Kurt remembers he hasn't actually told Blaine about Santana's call yet.

"Blaine?" he calls out, quickly rattling his knuckles against Blaine's bedroom door, but he doesn't bother to wait for a reply before he lets himself in. "I forgot to tell you, Santana call- _oh_."

Blaine's not wearing a t-shirt when Kurt spots him sitting on the bed, but that's not what's made Kurt stop - rather it's the way in which Blaine is sitting: ramrod straight, a guilty look on his face, fingers clamping at the sheet he's pulled over his lap as soon as Kurt came bursting in. It all looks very nefarious, and Kurt can feel his cheeks reddening when the realization of what he's just walked in on sinks in.

For a moment, they just stare at each other, the silence surrounding them becoming more uncomfortable with each passing second, but when Blaine finally breaks their gaze and ducks his head, Kurt realizes he should probably just leave.

"I-uh... ," he stammers, averting his eyes as he takes a step back, pointing at the door over his shoulder. "I'm sorry. I... uh... I'm just gonna... I'll uh... I'll come back later."

Immediately, Blaine scrambles up from beneath the sheets.

"No!" he calls out, stretching out his arm towards Kurt, and Kurt almost runs straight out of the room until he sees Blaine's not actually naked below the waist. "I wasn't... it's not..."

The fact that Blaine is obviously wearing boxers doesn't really suffice to calm Kurt down -not in the least because Blaine's looking  _good_ -, but he stops nevertheless, and they continue to stare at each other awkwardly for a few more moments, pointedly ignoring the small heap of  _something_ under the sheets before Blaine breaks the silence.

"Santana?" he manages, obviously trying to look interested rather than uncomfortable. He only partly succeeds.

"Yeah," Kurt tries to go along with Blaine's attempt at normalcy. "She... she and Britt... they want to come over for Halloween. For the weekend."

It's useless, however - Kurt has always worn his heart on his sleeve and the silence that has followed his words hasn't even had the time to become uncomfortable when his curiosity takes over.

"What on earth are you hiding under there?"

"Nothing."

The reply is quick, almost automatic, and Blaine lowers his head again when he sees Kurt quirk an eyebrow.

"Nothing?"

"Nothing." There's a moment's hesitation before Blaine continues. "It's just- ... medical kit."

"Medical kit?"

Kurt starts feeling like a parrot, but Blaine being this flustered over a medicine cabinet just doesn't make sense to him.

"So I could just... walk over to your bed," he says slowly as he does so, "and pull the sheets and I'd find -"

A big toiletry bag, full with pill bottles, is lying on the mattress in front of Blaine, just as he'd said, and Kurt can only just catch a glimpse of a number of small plastic bags containing what appear to be at least four or five different pills before Blaine quickly grabs them.

"I just... I was just sorting out my meds," he says apologetically, almost embarrassed, as he starts stuffing everything back in the toiletry bag. "But it's not... I can do it later. When did you say Santana was coming?"

"Wo-wow," Kurt protests, taking Blaine by the wrist to stop him from putting the bag away. He's still not sure exactly what is going on, but it's obvious Blaine is trying to distract him and he won't have it. " _Sorting out your meds_?"

"My ARTs, yes, but as I said I'll-"

"ARTs?" Kurt parrots once more, and it takes him a second before he remembers the initialism.

 _Anti-retrovirals_.

Blaine's HIV medicines.

"I'm sorry," Blaine babbles on, "you caught me by surprise and I-"

But Kurt's not even listening anymore, rage bubbling in his throat at the realization that Blaine was purposely keeping this from him.

"You were hiding ARTs  _under your sheets_?" he asks, voice rising, and he almost expects Blaine to deny it, to make excuses, but instead he gets a rambling apology.

"I'm so, so sorry, I-I-... I know how much you hated your meds, and I really didn't mean for you to see them, I swear. I'm really, really sorry, but you surprised me and I- it won't- it won't happen again, I promise."

Blaine keeps blathering, trying to zip up the toiletry bag with one hand as he continues to apologize, and Kurt feels his anger subside almost as quickly as it had risen, disbelief taking its place.

"You... you didn't want me to see  _your_ meds because I didn't like taking  _mine_?" he asks, incredulous. "Blaine, in what universe does that even make sense?"

He shakes his head, unsure of what to do as Blaine looks at him sheepishly, still fumbling with the bag. He can't be angry with Blaine, not really, not when he apparently did what he did out of concern for Kurt, however misplaced. But there's something else too, a feeling that Kurt hadn't expected but is rearing its head now, nibbling at the edge of his conscious: guilt.

Kurt knows Blaine is on medication - of course he knows that. Blaine had even told him how he messed up with them before and developed resistance at one point. But it isn't until now that he realizes he actually has no idea exactly what Blaine's on. He has no clue when Blaine has to take his pills, or how often, he doesn't even know how many he takes. In the almost five months he's known about Blaine's status he's been so absorbed by his own treatment, so focussed on trying to deal with the fact that he had been lied to for so many years, that he has never once stopped to think about how it's affected _Blaine's_ life.

And he has no one to blame but himself.

There's a rattling sound, followed by a soft thump against his knee, and Kurt looks down to find one of the pill bottles has fallen out of the bag.

"Norvir," he reads, picking it up, "Ritonavir."

"It's... it's a protease inhibitor," Blaine tells him somewhat hesitantly, "to keep the- ... to keep the virus from making new capsules."

Kurt nods, vaguely remembering the specificities of viral replication the nurse had explained to him on his first day of therapy. He opens the bottle curiously, finding it half full with white pills, before he pulls the toiletry bag out of Blaine's hands. As far as he can tell there must be at least 10 bottles in it, and the mere thought of Blaine having to take all of them almost makes him nauseous.

"It's not as bad as it looks," Blaine seems to guess his thoughts. "This is... I just got new prescriptions, so this is for three months, that's why... "

He goes through the bottles, taking out two that look identical to the one Kurt is holding.

"See? They're... it's for three months."

Kurt can only nod again, still unable to speak, because even if this is a three month supply, it's still an awful lot of bottles. He doesn't protest when Blaine takes the bottle out of his hands and puts it back, but when Blaine tries to take the bag, Kurt strengthens his grip. He can't let this go. Not yet.

"Show me," he asks - pleads. He's not sure why this is so important to him all of a sudden, he's not even sure exactly what he's asking, but he needs to know, needs to make up for not having given it a single thought before, somehow.

There's a moment of silence, and Kurt fights to meet Blaine's gaze when he looks up at him. Finally, Blaine nods, and this time when Blaine reaches out for the bag, Kurt lets go.

"I'm on two... two protease inhibitors," Blaine starts, his voice a bit shaky. "Because... you get resistant easily... so you usually have at least two. So, that one... and, this... Reyataz. It's... Gary and I always joke this is the only reason why I'm more tan than he is."

He chuckles when he sees Kurt's surprised look, and the sound seems to break some of the tension that has built up between them.

"It causes build-up of bilirubin in the body," Blaine explains, "which in turn can lead to yellowing of the skin and sometimes the eyes. I've seen people with eyes the color of the yellow brick road, I swear. It's not that bad for me, and I get away with it because I'm already tan and people blame it on my heritage, but now you know my secret: it's really just tan from a bottle."

He winks conspiratorially, shaking the bottle, and Kurt can feel the corners of his mouth lift in a smile. Leave it to Blaine to find the humor in the situation.

"And then it's just the Truvada, to keep the DNA from replicating," Blaine says, showing him another bottle. "And that's it as far as ARTs go, really."

"What's that one, then?" Kurt asks, pointing at a brown, glass bottle Blaine had ignored.

"That's just... vitamin D and calcium complex," Blaine takes it out and turns it to Kurt so he can read the label, "to prevent low bone density. It's a common problem in HIV and AIDS patients. I take extra zinc too, but I forgot what that was for. I can ask Linda next time I see her if you want."

As he speaks, Blaine's tone has become conversational, casual almost, and for a moment the seriousness of the conversation seems to have dissipated. But when Kurt looks down and sees the bag with the pill bottles, the reality of it all suddenly hits him: Blaine is sick. Blaine is actually, really sick. He's about to get up to hug Blaine when he remembers his promise to himself - he would keep his distance until he's figured things out. And right now, he needs to figure out more about this.

"How often do you need to take them?" he asks meekly.

"Just once a day," Blaine says. "The supplements I usually take in the morning, but the Reyataz and Norvir have to be taken with a more heavy meal, so I always take those at dinner."

"Six o'clock dinner," Kurt says automatically as the pieces fall together in his head, and he can kick himself for never having made the connection before. "That's why you always insist on six o'clock dinner. Because they need to be taken every day at the same time."

Blaine doesn't say anything, but the half-hearted smile he gives Kurt is answer enough. It still doesn't quite make sense, though.

"But you don't. I have dinner with you almost every day but I've never seen you take any pills. How do you-"

"Bathroom," Blaine tells him a bit sheepishly, his eyes darting over the walls, the bed, the carpet - anywhere that isn't Kurt, and Kurt's mouth falls open.

"You seriously sneak away at dinner just to take your meds?"

Blaine shrugs almost apologetically.

"Or before or after. It's not like anybody would think it's odd."

"No," Kurt says firmly, shaking his head. "No. I'm putting a stop to this right now. No hiding, no sneaking around - if you need to take those at dinner, you'll take them at dinner, and I'll deal with that, okay? I don't... I really can't believe you would go through all this trouble just because of me."

He looks up at Blaine and the other man shrugs again, shifting uneasily.

"Well, first you didn't know, and then after..." he cocks his head. "You really hated those pills, Kurt. And you were going through so much already -emotionally, physically-, throwing this in the mix... I just couldn't do that. And I... I know you, I know you were going to worry and lose yourself in 'what if's. I wanted you to be able to look at me and think, 'he's just a normal guy, he goes for drinks with friends, he studies, he goes to the gym - he's just a normal guy'. I thought maybe you wouldn't panic or freak out so much if you could just see... I'm an ordinary guy."

"Only you're not."

"Only I'm not," Blaine concedes after a pause.

"You could've told me after I got my results," Kurt says in a mildly accusing tone of voice. "No reason to pretend it didn't affect your life after that."

"And go: hey, look what you narrowly escaped?" Blaine shakes his head. "You're still struggling with this, Kurt, I can tell. And that's ok, I needed time as well, and I'm not blaming anyone for anything here. I just... didn't want to shove it in your face all the time, I guess."

Kurt can hardly believe what he's hearing.

"Taking care of your health by taking your meds on the appropriate times hardly counts as 'shoving it in my face', Blaine," he says sternly as he picks up the toiletry bag. "Now, where do you keep this?"

"Sock drawer," Blaine tells him, and Kurt cocks an eyebrow.

"And the reason for that would be...?"

"All my sock are synthetic blends and you insist on wearing 100% cotton only," Blaine explains, the small smile on his face equal parts apology and amusement. "You wouldn't come near my socks if they paid you."

Kurt just stares at him, speechless once more, as he tries to decide whether to feel embarrassed because he's been so easy to fool, or flattered because Blaine knows him so well. But when he sees Blaine grin at him, it's all he can do to grin back.

"Well, no more sock drawer for this," he says determinedly, getting up from the bed. "If the bathroom is good enough for my NiQuill, it's good enough for your bottles as well."

Blaine ducks his head in response, hiding a bashful smile. Kurt doesn't really know what to make of the mixture of hope and gratitude the smile seems to hold, but when Blaine looks back up again he simply holds out his hand. Kurt takes it, not sure of what it is Blaine wants from him, and Blaine laughs, squeezing his hand once before he points at the bag in Kurt's hands.

"I... eh... I wasn't quite finished with that, actually."

For a moment Kurt's lost, looking between Blaine and the bag until he remembers what Blaine had been doing when Kurt had burst into the room.

"Oh," he says abruptly, immediately holding out the bag for Blaine to take, "oh, yes, of course, sorry, I-I wasn't... I mean- right. You were- you were filling up your pill box."

"Not exactly," Blaine says, taking over the bag. "I don't have a pill box anymore."

He smiles when he sees Kurt's momentary confusion.

"They're easy for beginners to keep track of things," he explains, "but I find them too big to carry around. Everyone has their own system, of course - but I have these little bags that fit in my wallet more easily. Works for me."

"Oh," Kurt repeats, not sure what to say to that, and he feels a bit lost standing there, in the middle of Blaine's room, hands hanging awkwardly by his sides now. His gaze keeps returning to the bag Blaine's holding in his lap now, and it only serves to remind Kurt that Blaine is still very much dressed in nothing but a pair of boxers.

"I-uhm... I'm gonna start lunch, now, I think," he stutters, moving towards the door, and Blaine nods, already settling back onto the bed and unzipping his bag.

"I'll be out in a minute."

"Put some clothes on."

Kurt immediately wants to bite his tongue, because that wasn't what he'd planned to say. Not that he'd actually planned to say anything, but if he had, it certainly wouldn't have been that. Fortunately, though, Blaine just shoots him an amused smile, and when he makes it to the door Kurt's sure he couldn't have left the room more quickly if he'd tried.

It isn't until he sits down at the kitchen table that he notices just how hard his heart is racing, and he has to clutch his hands together to keep them from shaking. This has been the closest they've come to discussing the way Blaine's HIV affects the both of them in months, and it only serves to remind Kurt how right Nick had been when he'd accused Kurt of ignoring reality.

Not anymore, though, Kurt decides. Not when Blaine is starting to open up to him, about the support group and about his pills. Not when Kurt himself has taken a first baby step of his own in telling Blaine to keep his medication with the rest of their stuff.

He can do this.  _They_  can do this.

And they're starting today.

"I thought you were going to start lunch?" Blaine's voice hauls him out of his thoughts, and Kurt startles, although he's relieved to find Blaine has thrown on a t-shirt and a pair of sweats, even if they hang unfairly low on his hips.

"Yeah," he mumbles, getting up, "I-eh... got distracted."

Blaine shoots him a small smile, and Kurt's not sure why it looks a little strained until he sees how Blaine moves silently towards one of the drawers. He throws the three pill bottles he was holding in it, together with a couple of the little bags Kurt had caught a glimpse of when he'd walked in on Blaine earlier, and when he turns around the look in his eyes is somewhat guarded, as if he's expecting Kurt to object against what he's just done. Truth be told Kurt is just a little more shocked than he probably has a right to be, but then again he guesses Blaine having to go to the bathroom to fetch his pills would kind of defeat the purpose of their newly established agreement.

The silence between them stretches on just a little too long, but then Blaine just takes a deep breath, clasping his hands together as he smiles his most radiant smile.

"So, what are we having for lunch?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To the best of my knowledge the medical information is correct, and I have no affiliation with any of the brands mentioned, they're simply one of the most common ART combinations (or so I have been told). My source of information worked in a European HIV clinic, however, and Europe is usually a little behind on the States, so if you know about these things the information might seem a little outdated or you might not recognize the specific brand names. I've done my best with the info I had :).


	5. Chapter 4

"I thought Kurt would've come along," Gary says as he sits down at the table across from Blaine, giving them each a cutting board and a knife before he passes Blaine a couple of onions.

"Yeah, no," Blaine shrugs as he accepts the onions his older brother is offering him. "Mercedes suddenly got a hard lock case of missing Sam so he took her out for retail therapy."

Gary nods, focussing on cutting the parsnips in front of him before he speaks up again, a little reluctantly.

"I haven't seen him much, lately... There isn't any trouble between the two of you, is there?"

"Oh no," Blaine says, even though he can't help but frown a little. "No, no trouble, we're doing fine. We're... I mean, we're not 'we', obviously, but we're fine, really."

"But...?" Gary prompts. It's not that he thinks his brother is lying when he says everything's fine, but he knows him well enough to know  _something_ is off, at least.

"But nothing," Blaine shrugs. "It's nothing. It's just..."

He pauses for a minute, looking at the onion in front of him as if it holds the answer to his dilemma.

"Kurt's been acting weird, lately," he finally says, looking up at Gary as he puts down his knife.

"Weird?"

"Well, yeah, not  _weird_ weird, just..." He sighs. "Like, last weekend we went to that McQueen exhibition he's been going on about forever, and he was all over me. I swear - the only time he let go of my hand was to go to the bathroom."

He smiles a little at the memory, because even if he's complaining now he hadn't particularly minded. That Kurt's behavior may have had something to do with their meeting Brad the day before is something he doesn't mention, though - he's not sure how his brother would react to the news of Brad's return to New York, but he has a feeling there wouldn't be any tears of joy involved.

"So there was that," he continues. "But the next day I come home and his eyes are all red and I'm sure he's been crying, but he won't talk to me - just says he had a serious talk with Nick and he 'has a lot to think about'. And then he starts acting all distant."

Gary pauses, frowning at Blaine.

"You don't think him and Nick are gonna get back together, do you?"

"I don't know what I'm supposed to think, Gar," Blaine sighs, resuming his fight with the onions, "because the day before yesterday he surprised me when I was sorting through my pills and ever since he's gone all Mother Theresa on me."

His expression becomes more than a little indignant when Gary bursts out laughing.

"Oh dear, that's just too precious! What happened?"

"I don't know - I didn't even know he was home!" Blaine tries to explain. "I was sitting on my bed filling my pill bags and he comes bursting in and of course I pull the blanket in a reflex and he- he thought I was- it's not funny!"

The story has sent Gary in another laughing fit, and Blaine rises up from his seat to swat at him. He misses by an inch.

"It  _is_ funny!" Gary roars, fending off another swat. "It totally is! It's almost surprising it hasn't happened before, really."

"What, seeing my pills or walking in on me jerking off?" Blaine asks, falling back onto his chair.

"Both, actually," Gary wiggles his eyebrows at Blaine, still grinning. "So, what did he say?"

"About what?"

"About your meds, obviously, what are we talking about? Did he freak out?"

"Why, did you want him to?" Blaine asks, eyeing his brother suspiciously.

"Dunno," Gary shrugs, getting up, "it would've made for a nice story. So, did he?"

"Not really." Blaine hands Gary his cutting board with the chopped up onions. "I thought he was going to throw a scene because I told him about the support group last weekend as well and it was probably starting to look like I was keeping stuff from him again, but I- "

"Wo-how, just a second," Gary interrupts him, holding up his hands as he turns towards Blaine. "You told him about the group?"

Gary sounds almost impressed, and Blaine lowers his head, pretty sure he's about to disappoint but he can't exactly lie to his brother.

"It... came up."

" 'It came up'," Gary repeats slowly, an inquisitive look on his face as he crosses his arms and leans back against the counter. "I take it this doesn't mean you brought it up yourself?"

"Well... kinda..." Blaine starts, but Gary doesn't give him the chance to finish his sentence.

"Jesus, Blaine, when are you going to start being honest with him?"

"I  _am_ honest with him!" Blaine protests indignantly.

"Of course, because honest people routinely throw a blanket over whatever it is they're doing when someone walks in the room unexpectedly, right?" his brother asks, clearly not impressed, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "And honest people usually pretend to have classes but go to a support group instead, right? And what does 'kinda' even mean? Because I have a feeling you only told him because you had to turn down an invite or something along those lines."

The silence that follows says it all, and Gary shakes his head when he turns back around, taking out a pot and adding a bit of olive oil.

"I told him, Gar," Blaine pleads, "even if I didn't exactly sit him down to make the announcement, I told him. I could've lied, but I didn't, I was honest. Isn't that the point, that I was honest?"

"The point, _Blaine_ ," Gary says angrily, putting the pot on the stove with more force than necessary, "is that you're only honest when you're cornered, when you don't have another choice."

He turns on the stove and then pivots to face Blaine.

"If you want Kurt to trust you again, you're going to have to do better than that."

But Blaine shakes his head determinedly.

"Kurt's had a really rough time, and dumping everything on him at the same time would be completely insensitive," he argues. "You really want me to sit him down and go through the list of details in which all of this affects my life? I rather let him figure out things in his own time, when he's ready. And anyways, it's all out there now."

"Is that so?" Gary all but sneers, and somehow Blaine already knows what he's going to say next. "So I take it you told him about your test results?"

Blaine bites his lip, taking a deep breath before he looks back at his brother, gaze steady.

"No."

Gary presses his fingers against his temples for a moment in contemplation before looking back at him.

"For god's sake, Blaine, don't you think he has a right to know?"

"That has nothing to do with it, Gar!" Blaine exclaims angrily, slamming his hand on the table. "This isn't about who has a right to know what because there's nothing  _to_ know in the first place!"

"I'll tell him that when you end up in hospital with acute kidney failure," Gary says dryly, his voice quavering with barely contained anger, and Blaine has to restrain himself from rolling his eyes.

"The drama queen look doesn't suit you, Gar," he sneers. "And my kidneys are not suddenly going to  _fail_ on me. The values weren't even that abnormal, just... higher than usual."

"Oh, of course, nothing abnormal, which is why your next test is next month instead of in 4 months as usual," Gary scoffs. "There is reason for concern, Blaine, and Kurt needs to know. What if something happens - he won't know what's going on, won't know what to tell the paramedics."

"What if nothing happens and it was all just a storm in a glass of water?" Blaine counters. "It's just one test result. And you know Kurt well enough to realize he's just going to worry himself sick. He won't take it well."

But Gary shakes his head, sitting down across from Blaine.

"First of all, I feel you're not giving Kurt enough credit here. Secondly, don't you think Kurt is perfectly capable of deciding for himself what he can and cannot take? And finally..." He runs his hands through his hair, pausing for a moment to catch Blaine's attention. "Look, Blaine, Kurt's a good guy, and I like him, I really do. But you're positive. You're positive and that means you need to take meds, you need to get tested regularly, you have to take care not to cut yourself, to always have safe sex. You could develop resistance to your drugs, you could get an opportunistic infection and end up in hospital. And Kurt needs to know that. If you want to have a relationship with him, or with anyone else for that matter, they need to know exactly what they're in for. And I understand you want to protect him from the ugly reality of it all, but Blaine, you've tried that before and we both know how that ended. So believe me when I say you're not doing anyone any favors by keeping things from him that might scare him away - not him, and not yourself. Because if he can't handle it - it's better you know it now."

"He _can_ handle it," Blaine says stubbornly with more conviction than he feels. "He can, I know he can. But you're making things sound way worse than they are, Gar. Negative people need regular medical check-ups too. They take care not to hurt themselves, they should have safe sex, they could run under a car or get cancer or whatever. As long as I take my meds regularly I'm no more likely than anyone else to end up in hospital. I'm not a hazard, I'm not sick and I'm not going to let anyone treat me like I am - not Kurt, and definitely not you."

His voice has grown increasingly louder and more insistent as he talked, and he sends Gary a challenging look. His brother doesn't say anything, though, simply looks back, and Blaine continues.

"You of all people should know better, Gar," he says, a little more confident now, "you're the one who always told me things would be all right, that I could have a normal life. Well, I  _have_ a normal life. And I know I screwed up, okay? I know that. But getting Kurt to trust me doesn't mean I have to tell him every detail of my life, let alone every detail of my treatment. You weren't there, you don't know how much he loathes pills now,  _any_ pills, and doctors, and hospitals. And I know he can handle it, I do, but right now he already has so much on his plate that I don't think he would be able to handle it  _well_ on top of everything else. So if I have to change meds I will tell him, I'll even tell him  _why_ , but unless that happens, I refuse to make things even harder for him."

It's not the complete truth, because not wanting to add to Kurt's worries is only part of the reason why Blaine is reluctant to tell him about the current problems with his kidneys. He can't exactly tell Gary the other reason, though, since it's a lot more selfish.

Because Blaine had known Kurt would need time, not only to accept the reality of Blaine's positive HIV status but also and more importantly to come to terms with what had happened between them, to understand why Blaine hadn't disclosed to him until after it was too late. Blaine had  _told_ him to take time, too, because if there was even the tiniest of chances that he and Kurt could get back together, the only way it would possibly work would be if there was no lingering resentment between them, if Kurt was absolutely and positively sure that he wanted to be with Blaine.

So Blaine told himself to wait. He had waited for Kurt for almost three years before, and he could do it again. Because Kurt was worth waiting for. Because he knew Kurt would come back to him, eventually.

At least that's what he had thought.

Because ever since Kurt had officially been declared virus-free, he had, slowly but steadily, grown more distant and contemplative. Where they used to be comfortable having breakfast in just their boxers, nowadays Kurt would always be fully dressed when he left his room, locking the bathroom whenever he took a shower. Where they used to cuddle in front of the television in the evenings, now they would each sit in opposite corners of the couch. It isn't so much that Kurt seems uncomfortable touching Blaine -his little outburst about Mercedes had proven that much- but more like he is trying to take a step back, to assess what it is that they have, and where he wants it to go.

And even if Gary is right that Kurt should know what he is in for, Blaine is reluctant to give him another argument  _against_ getting back together, especially now that he already seems to have second thoughts.

For a few, long minutes neither of the brothers speaks, the only sounds coming from the onion sizzling in the pan and the sharp thuds of knives cutting food. Blaine follows Gary with his eyes as he throws the parsnips in the pan and adds water, but then Gary turns around, sighing as he looks at Blaine inquisitively.

"Ok then," he finally says. "It's your choice. Change of subject. Mom asks if you're coming home for Thanksgiving."

"Nooo... ," Blaine groans at the mention of their mother, stretching his arms in front of him on the table and letting his head fall between them. "No no, please - let's get back to how horrible a friend I am to Kurt, all that secrecy and stuff, we really need to talk ab-"

"Blaine," Gary cuts him off sternly, sending his little brother a pointed look when he lifts his head in response. "Thanksgiving."

"But it's two months from here!" Blaine whines. "Why do I need to decide that  _now_?"

"It's six weeks," Gary corrects him, "and we want you to decide now because if you don't you'll wait until the last minute and then make some lame excuse about how you couldn't get a decent flight anymore like you did last year. And the year before."

"So you're not asking if I'm coming, you're telling me to book my ticket already."

Blaine has pushed himself up half on his side, his head resting on one hand, looking down at where he's drawing absentminded patterns on the surface with the other. The posture, together with the casual tone he has adopted, makes him seem almost relaxed, but there's a tension in his shoulders that wasn't there before.

"You haven't been home since last winter."

"I was there in July."

Gary rolls his eyes, moving to the cupboard to take out some spices.

"To go to grandma's funeral, and you were gone the next day. Come on, Blaine, mom misses you."

"She  _misses_ me?" Blaine spits out, his relaxed attitude instantly gone. "How _quaint_. I didn't know she had it in her - she certainly didn't miss me  _when she shipped me off to Dalton_."

"That's not fair and you know it," Gary retorts, equally indignant. "It wasn't easy for them."

"Oh what, and it was easy for  _me_?" Blaine's eyes are blazing now. "I'm not the one who was scared of being around their own kid and sent them to boarding school, Gar!"

Gary slams the lid back on the pot with too much force, and the clang echoes around the kitchen, making Blaine jump.

"No, you're just the one who stopped taking his meds without telling anyone!" Gary sneers, turning around. "You know perfectly well mom and dad didn't  _ship you off_ anywhere. You were getting into too much trouble at school, it wasn't safe for you there.  _You_ came up with Dalton, and as for the boarding thing, I seem to recall that was your own choice as well."

"Because I couldn't stand the way they looked at me!" Blaine exasperates. "Like they were... like they..."

He pauses, breathing heavily as he tries to find the right words.

"... were worried about you?" Gary supplies with a tilt of his head.

" _Ashamed_ of me, Gar," Blaine corrects him, voice cold. "Like I was some kind of freak."

"They never thought you were a freak, Blaine," Gary sighs, moving back to his chair. "Yes, it was hard on them, and no, they didn't always react the way they should have, but neither have you. It's been over four years, don't you think it's time to try to get over that?"

Blaine shrugs non-committally. As far as he is concerned, the weekly e-mails from his mother are an improvement over the painfully awkward phone calls he'd had to endure his first year in New York, but even if he might be prepared to admit that he carries part of the blame for his less-than-optimal relationship with his parents, it doesn't mean he's willing to forgive them for  _their_ part. The looks on his parents' faces when Gary explained them what had happened, the way in which their conversations would fall silent whenever he entered the room in the months after that, the panic in his mother's eyes that time he dropped that vase and cut himself cleaning up... - they are etched in his memory, and it would take more than time and a turkey dinner to fix that.

His reluctance must be visible on his face, because Gary sighs.

"They miss you, Blaine," he pleads. " _I_ miss you when I'm there. And I just want to celebrate Thanksgiving with my family for once. My  _whole_ family."

Blaine glares at him - he loves his brother and Gary knows that, but he doesn't usually call on it to get Blaine to do something, and the fact that he does so now disconcerts Blaine in more than one way. Still, Gary is his only brother, and if this is important enough for him to ask a personal favor...

"Maybe."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those who're wondering why the hell Gary is Blaine's older brother - the prequel was written over six months ago, when there hadn't been any mention of Cooper yet. I thought about going back and changing the names, but since this older brother is not an actor, not a douchebag, and not straight, it didn't make much sense anyway.


	6. Chapter 5

Two weeks later the apartment is already filled with the smell of food when Kurt comes home, and he enters the kitchen to find Blaine behind the stove, sporting the 'May the forks be with you' apron Kurt had given him for his birthday the year before.

"Hi there," he says, smiling as he walks over to quickly press a kiss against Blaine's cheek, and his stomach gives a little jolt when the gesture is returned. It's the only physical contact between them he's allowed himself, and he finds himself appreciating it all the more for it. "What are you making?"

"Just a simple wok," Blaine replies. "Threw in some of the leftover veggies we had and those quorn strips you got last week. Wasn't sure if you were coming home for dinner and I wanted something quick. It's almost done, if you want to set the table."

"I would've texted if I was staying out, you know that," Kurt comments, dropping his satchel and shaking off his jacket, but when he looks over Blaine's shoulder to see what he's doing, he frowns.

"Half a bag of frozen vegetables don't classify as 'leftover veggies', Blaine," he says disapprovingly. "Vegetables need to be fresh."

"Scientific studies indicate there's more vitamins in frozen vegetables because they're processed and frozen right after they're harvested instead of spending days in transport and on display," Blaine replies with the practiced easy of someone who's made the argument multiple times already. "Vegetables are vegetables. Now could you set the table? Please?"

For a moment, Kurt wants to comment, but finally he decides to let it go, although he can't keep himself from muttering a silent 'slave driver' under his breath.

"So, how was your day?"

"It's over, fortunately," Blaine says, rolling his eyes dramatically. "Let's just keep it at that for now, please. How was yours?"

Kurt groans, moving to the cupboard to take out the plates.

"About as good as yours, by the sounds of it. Murphy still refuses to let us use the cutting room outside contact hours  _or_ to extend contact hours, which basically means there's no way we can finish our project in time. Then Madeleine liberally interpreted my offer for help with English and simply wrote her part of our History paper completely in French and now expects me to translate it all, and then Van Buiten said my Spring designs lack 'vivacity and innovation'. He's the one who told me to use classic pastel colors in the first place!"

He's gotten so caught up in his ramblings that it isn't until he wants to set down the plates that he notices the table is full of papers, and he pulls out a chair with his foot to put the plates there instead.

"What are these?" he asks, as he picks up some of the sheets.

"Those are... eh... applications," Blaine says over his shoulder, his voice taking that tone where he tries to sound casual but fails. "For a summer internship? We're not required to take one yet, but I thought it would be good anyway, give me some extra credit."

Kurt nods numbly but he barely hears Blaine anymore - his ears are ringing and he feels queasier with every application he sees. Centre for Disease Control. Division of HIV/AIDS Prevention. Elton John Aids Foundation. Children Affected by Aids Foundation. HIV/AIDS Prevention and Education.

"Most of them are out of state," Blaine continues, "I mean, EJAF's here in New York but I don't think I'll get in, it's too high profile. But CAAF would be cool. Or HAPE. They're in LA, so I was hoping maybe I could stay with Brittany and Santana if I get in, you know, reducing costs and all."

"You can ask them next week," Kurt replies absently, automatically, because he's still holding on to the damned sheets and the words are swimming in front of him, thoughts tumbling through his head so fast he can barely keep track of them.

_Why does he want to do this? Why does he want to spend his summer working with people who have the same problems he's facing every day? How is he going to explain this to our friends? They'll be suspicious, they'll ask questions, they'll find out and- oh god what if they find out? What will they think of me? What will they think of Blaine? Will they react bad because it's hard enough dealing with Mercedes right now I can't take any more people acting like that, or worse. I can't deal with that, I can't deal with this, and how does he expect me to react to this? Why did he even let me see this?_

But a wave of guilt crashes over him before he even finishes the last thought, because he knows exactly why Blaine left those papers on the table for him to find.

No more hiding, they had agreed, no more secrets.

It had sounded so much easier in theory.

Because Kurt had never imagined it would be so hard. He had definitely never imagined it would be so hard  _for_   _him_. His resolve to start facing reality had started crumbling already the morning after his talk with Blaine about his meds, when the infamous toiletry bag had been the first thing he'd seen opening the bathroom cabinet to take out his moisturizer. He hasn't fared much better at dinner: as Blaine had predicted, seeing Blaine take his meds on a daily basis had proven to be a painful reminder both of Kurt's own forced therapy -months ago but still fresh on his mind- and the simple reality that Blaine was not, never would be, alright.

And it kills him.

And so now it is Kurt who is hiding, more often than not keeping himself busy with stirring and tasting before dinner until he hears the tell-tale sound of an empty water glass behind him and he knows it's safe to turn around. It's Kurt who doesn't ask how Blaine's evening was when he comes home late on Thursday nights, looking tired and worn-out. And it's Kurt who wants to pretend he hasn't read the application forms in front of him, because even if Blaine clearly still isn't comfortable with telling Kurt things directly -and to be honest, neither would Kurt be-, he's obviously trying to keep up his end of the deal and not hide things from Kurt anymore.

But sometimes, just sometimes, Kurt wishes he still did.

"Kurt. Kurt? Could you maybe take those away?"

Blaine's standing next to him, pan in one hand and coaster in the other, gesturing with his chin towards the papers on the table. From the way he's looking at him, Kurt's pretty sure it's not the first time the question has been asked, and he shakes himself out of his reverie, quickly gathering the papers onto a heap.

"Yeah... sure... of course. Sorry."

He doesn't see the look of hurt that crosses Blaine's face as he carries the stack of papers to Blaine's desk, and by the time he returns Blaine is smiling his signature smile again, loading food on each of their plates.

"Did you-"

"Took 'em," Blaine interrupts, and if Kurt felt any sort of pride for having gathered the courage to actually ask the question, he can hardly hold on to it when relief over Blaine's words washes over him, and Kurt would kick himself for it if he could. He tries to hide his distress by opening the fridge, hoping Blaine won't notice his sudden silence, and when he sees the small bottle of white wine sitting in the door, he doesn't hesitate.

"You too?" he asks, holding up the bottle, but he's not surprised when Blaine shakes his head - as far as Kurt knows he hasn't touched a drop of alcohol ever since _that_ night, and even if he thinks it's a little exaggerated, on some level he finds it reassuring, too.

He pours himself a glass before putting the bottle back, and moves back to the table. The silence between them stretches on, becoming heavier with every second that passes, and Kurt realizes Blaine is probably waiting for him to say something. But he can't - not yet. At least when he walked in on Blaine sorting through his meds it was something he should have known, could have expected. But this - this is anything but expected.

"So, what do you think?" Blaine asks suddenly, doing that pretend-casual thing again.

"T-think?" Kurt stammers, caught off-guard, glad he didn't drop his fork and praying inwardly that Blaine doesn't mean what he thinks he means. "Think about what?"

"The internships," Blains says, cocking his head towards his desk. "Do you think it's a good idea?"

Kurt stuffs a forkful of food in his mouth, trying to postpone having to answer even if he knows he can't avoid it.

"Mmm..." he finally says, swallowing. "It's... eh... good, I guess. Internship always looks good on a CV. I don't- I don't know any of the... eh...  _organizations_ , but I'm sure they all have good reputations - I mean, they must have, if you chose them."

Blaine nods curtly, focusing his attention back on the plate in front of him, and Kurt can tell he's disappointed in Kurt's answer. Seeing as Kurt shares the sentiment, he can't exactly blame him, but right now he can't - he just can't.

They eat the rest of their meal in silence, the only sounds the ticking of their cutlery against their plates. After they've cleaned up Blaine suggests watching a movie, and Kurt doesn't protest, curling up by himself on one end of the couch as Blaine picks a DVD and then makes himself comfortable as well. Really, Kurt just wants to go back to his room but fear that Blaine might think he's angry at him makes him stay, even though he's hardly paying attention to the screen. He just needs time to think, first, he decides, and then he'll talk to Blaine about it - then he'll be able to ask the right questions and give the right responses.

Tomorrow.

Or the day after that.

But he will. He will.

-o0o-

"So how's the boyfriend doing? Kurt, was it?"

Brad looks sideways at Blaine from across the little table they're sitting at. It's a beautiful autumn day, one of the last, no doubt, so when Brad had texted half an hour earlier to ask if Blaine felt like grabbing a drink somewhere, Blaine hadn't hesitated. If he had known this was the kind of questions Brad deemed acceptable conversation starters, however, he might have reconsidered it.

"He's not my boyfriend," he says, staring straight ahead as he takes a sip from his coke. "Not anymore."

"He's not?" Brad sounds honestly surprised. "Because I was sure I was about to spontaneously combust with the way he was looking at me that day in the supermarket."

Despite himself, Blaine can't help but smile a little at the memory - Kurt had made it very clear he didn't agree with Blaine letting Brad back into his life, and even if Blaine wasn't particularly fond of an upset Kurt, the indignant, almost possessive way in which Kurt had voiced his opinion had been strangely endearing.

"Yes, well, he can get a little... protective, sometimes."

He glances at Brad, who smiles back at him mischievously.

"Well then, lucky me, I guess," he says, wiggling his eyebrows as he leans back into his chair, and Blaine shoots him a confused look.

"Lucky you?" he asks, eyebrows raised. It earns him a playful laugh.

"Blaine, do you remember what I told you last time I saw you? In the kitchen right before we went back to the party?"

When Blaine turns his head to look at Brad the intensity with which the other man looks him over is all it takes to make his cheeks flush red. And just like that he's sixteen again, flustered but excited and just a little bit scared at being checked out so openly by a man - and quite a handsome man, too, at that.

"You said I was cute," he smiles, glancing down as he licks his lips. It had probably just been a line, he had realized later, but he remembered that moment vividly, the way it had made him feel larger than life. "You said I would grow up to be a heartbreaker."

"That I did," Brad nods gravely, and he couldn't have looked more serious if they'd been discussing world hunger, "but as it turns out I was wrong."

Blaine chuckles.

"Sorry to disappoint?" he apologizes jokingly. "Is it the gel? I bet it's the gel. Kurt's always nagging me about the gel."

But Brad just starts laughing again.

"Oh no, it's not the gel," he says, grinning. "Although Kurt does have a point. No, my dear boy: you, you have exceeded my expectations. You're not a heartbreaker - you're a life ruiner."

It's Blaine's turn to laugh now, and he shakes his head as he looks at Brad.

"A life ruiner?" he asks mockingly, cocking an eyebrow. "Seriously, Brad? Were your pick-up lines that bad back then as well, because if they were I'm terribly disappointed in my 16-year-old self."

"I usually have excellent pick-up lines," Brad shoots back, not in the least bit insulted, "which really is all the more proof that you are, in fact, a life ruiner. I bet anytime you walk into a club half of the guys there wanna be you. Because the other half want to  _do_ you. I'd be in the second group, by the way, in case you're wondering."

It's enough to send Blaine in another laughing fit, and he's suddenly glad he came out today anyway - his ego is certainly getting a boost out of it all.

"To be honest I wouldn't know," he says, still smiling, "I don't go to clubs. And I definitely don't let guys 'do me'."

The look Brad sends him is pure shock.

"You don't- but... _why_? That's... that's..."

For the first time in the conversation, Brad honestly seems at a loss for words.

"That's blasphemy!"

"Blasphemy?" Blaine asks with a huff, eyebrows raised and feeling positively entertained now. "Care to elaborate on that, because I feel like I'm missing something here."

"Because... seriously - just look at you!" Brad exasperates, gesturing animatedly towards Blaine. "I admit I can't be sure what you're hiding under that sweater, but I know damn well how it looked like five years ago and if it matured like the rest of you... I mean - _damn_ , Blaine. And you're keeping it from the entire gay community! If you had a boyfriend I'd understand, I mean, then at least  _one_ guy would be able to enjoy all that. But you... you... why? Just... why?"

Blaine takes a sip from his juice, casting Brad a sideway glance.

"Because I don't," he says calmly. "I don't do dating and I  _definitely_ don't do hook-ups. I just... don't feel comfortable. I know it's weird."

He smiles at Brad, who seems a little dumbfounded, waiting for the reaction he knows will come. Incredulity, surprise, ridicule... - he's heard it all. But it just isn't an option, not as far as he is concerned. First Jeremiah's insults and accusations had left him extremely self-conscious about anything sex-related and after he'd fallen for Kurt nobody had really been able to compare, even if Gary had suggested dating would be the best way to try to get over Kurt. But how was he supposed to tell  _a stranger_ that he was HIV positive if he hadn't even been able to work up the courage to tell  _Kurt_?

"Not... weird, necessarily," Brad says slowly, deliberately, as he seizes up Blaine. "A bit of a shame, really, if you ask me. Or, yeah, a big shame, but not... no, not weird. Just... surprising, I guess. So, you've never... you've seriously never- not with- not with anyone but  _me_?"

Blaine shakes his head. Technically he's had sex with Kurt, too, of course, but seeing as he was so drunk at the time he doesn't even remember, he doesn't think it counts.

"Nope."

Brad raises his eyebrows, nodding to himself as he processes the information, and they sit in silence for a moment.

"So..." Brad starts again, sounding quite a bit more hesitant than he had before. "Feel free to tell me if I'm overstepping here, but is that why you and Kurt broke up? Because you didn't want to..."

For a moment, Blaine is confused, until he catches on to what Brad is implying.

"Oh no," he says quickly, eager to correct Brad. "No, no, it's not... it's not like I don't  _want_  to have sex, I  _do_. I think. I'm- I mean, it scares the living hell out of me, especially after-"

He catches himself, suddenly realizing what he was about to say and wondering whether or not he even wants to explain. Brad's still essentially a stranger, after all - he'd tagged along to a couple of the support group sessions, and he'd stopped by to listen to Blaine's cover band the Sunday before, but this is really the first time they've talked about more than just the weather and their respective college woes.

The reality of it all, however, is that Blaine doesn't really have many people to talk to about this. The support group, obviously. Gary. And that's it. There is simply nobody else who even knows he's positive. And really, hadn't this been exactly one of the reasons why he'd wanted to stay in touch with Brad? Because if anyone would understand...

"We went out to a friend's party one night, Kurt and I," he starts after a moment's hesitation, trying to keep his voice neutral, his gaze firmly locked on the street in front of them. "And I... I got drunk. Very drunk. Which apparently makes me handsy. And Kurt... I knew he was getting frustrated - we'd been dating for over two months at that point and I was running out of excuses to take things slow, I knew I'd have to tell him soon. But I just... I couldn't. And that night when we came home I..."

He huffs, running his hands over his face, his heartbeat speeding up from the simple memory of that night.

"God, it was all so stupid. I don't even remember what happened, I was that out of it, but I woke up the next morning and we were both naked and- ... god, I was so stupid! I was just so,  _so_  stupid."

He lets his head fall into his hands, elbows on his knees, rubbing his face before he turns towards Brad, his temple resting on his fisted hands and a sad smile playing around his lips.

"What is the right expression here - once bitten, twice shy?"

"Is he ok?" Brad ignores his question, and Blaine can see him close his eyes in relief for just a second when he nods.

"I dragged him to the hospital as soon as I realized what had happened. I still only told him once we were actually there - he must have been terrified during the taxi drive but I just couldn't... I kept hoping we'd pull up at the hospital and I'd wake up. But they got him on PEP straight away, he had his last test about three months ago, and he's... he's fine. Physically, at least."

"You're blaming yourself."

It's not a question, and Blaine lets out a little self-deprecating laugh.

"Well, let's see..." he says, tilting his head and tapping his chin with his finger, "I am the positive one, I'm the one who didn't have the balls to inform my partner about that, I'm the one who let himself get so drunk I forgot I wasn't supposed to have sex, ... yeah, I'm pretty sure it's all Kurt's fault, really."

"So you're blaming  _me_  for being HIV positive?" Brad asks innocently, and Blaine rolls his eyes.

"Of course not! That was a completely different situation, we'd both been drinking-"

"By the sounds of it that part doesn't seem to be so different," Brad interjects, and Blaine shoots him a glare.

"-and you didn't even know you had it," he finishes his sentence.

"Oh yes," Brad says sarcastically, nodding in understanding, "because of course you only need to use a condom when you're  _sure_ one of you is HIV positive. I'll remember that."

"You know that's not what I meant," Blaine grumbles, staring straight ahead, absently turning his glass between his fingers. "All I'm saying is that we were both at fault."

"And all  _I'm_ saying is that you seem to have some weird double standard going on," Brad says in an accusing tone, and Blaine can feel his eyes burning in the side of his head. "And you need to get rid of it if you want him back. Or - I'm assuming you want him back?"

He gives Blaine an inquisitive look, and Blaine huffs, smiling wistfully, wondering for a brief moment how their friends see him if even a near stranger can see how he feels about Kurt.

"I try not to count on it," he says, placing his elbows on his knees, his chin propped onto his hands, still avoiding Brad's gaze. "He's been my best friend for almost three years, and I've been in love with him for the better part of that. But he feels like he can't trust me anymore, and I can't exactly blame him, can I? I basically lied to him from the day we met. I've made the worst mistake anyone in a relationship can make, and then some. Not to mention- god, just the  _idea_  of possibly hurting him again is just... Really, all things considered I'm lucky to still be able to even call him my friend. Though even that is hard."

He turns his head to Brad, a sad smile around his lips.

"He's trying, I know he is. But it's so difficult even to just  _talk_. He thinks I don't see how he tries to avoid having to see me take my meds, but I do, and I don't know whether to call him out on it and make him talk to me or let him find his own way through. But yeah... hope springs eternal, I guess."

"What will you do if he decides not to come back?"

There's no malice in Brad's voice, but Blaine still feels pushed into defense.

"Then I'll wait," he says, looking up at Brad now, defiantly. For a couple of seconds they're just staring at each other, but then Brad stands up abruptly, taking his coat from where it was hanging over the back of his chair as he jerks his chin towards Blaine, gesturing for him to get up.

"Up!" he says. "Let's get rid of that martyr complex of yours."

"We're... what?" Blaine asks, confused, even though he still follows Brad's example and shrugs on his coat. "Where are we going?"

"Out!" Brad replies cheerfully, not paying any attention to the taken aback expression on Blaine's face.

"Eh... Brad... it's three in the afternoon."

But Brad just grins, leaning towards Blaine just a little.

"You do know why they call New York 'the city that never sleeps', right?" he asks, a mischievous light burning in his eyes. "That's because  _there's always a party going on_. Always. Now come on!"

"But I don't want to go to a club!"

It comes out less authoritative than he had intended it to, but Blaine's shout still serves its purpose because Brad stops in his tracks, turning around to face Blaine.

"Blaine, I'm not trying to get you to do something stupid, okay?" he says, and with a few steps he's right in front of Blaine, placing his hands on his shoulders. "I'm not gonna get you drunk and I'm not gonna try to get in your pants. Though, you know, just say the word and I will."

He winks playfully, and Blaine can't help but laugh a little. Brad's little come-ons are getting increasingly ridiculous, and while Blaine is sure it's nothing more than a game by now, there's an underlying sincerity that makes him feel warm - cherished, almost.

"Look, all that waiting for Kurt is all very nice and romantic and all, but I don't think it's healthy to let your happiness depend on him. Not for you, and not for him either. It's definitely not healthy to let your peace of mind depend on him. I know firsthand how important it is to have the other person forgive you, but  _you_ need to forgive you as well, you know? You can't keep blaming yourself and you can't keep punishing yourself."

He's not just talking about Kurt anymore, Blaine knows, and he nods, dropping his head. He knows Brad is right - knows that he can't live the rest of his life blaming himself for the mistakes he's made, but he simply doesn't know how to do it differently, how to take responsibility without taking the blame, too.

"I just... I feel like I keep making the same mistake, you know?" he says quietly. "I was so careful after what happened between us and then first occasion I let my guard down I screw up even harder than before. And I can't... I can't screw up a third time, Brad. I simply can't."

"Hey... no worries," Brad winks playfully, giving him a little shove against his shoulder. "I'll take care of you, alright? I've done it before..."

"And look how that turned out," Blaine quips. He doesn't mean it, not really, not after he's had four years to come to terms with it, not after Brad had apologized extensively and publicly in the support group when he'd come along that first time, and he feels a little lighter already simply by being able to joke about it. Brad still wants to make sure though, it appears, because he lifts Blaine's chin with two fingers, wordlessly asking him to look at him.

"Hey - we've talked about this, right? You know I would never have gone bareback if I'd thought there was a risk. My last test had come back negative, you were a virgin, I didn't have any condoms at hand... I never planned to actually sleep with you, it all just sorta happened. I thought we were safe, I really did. And after Gary told me about you... I never wanted this to happen, Blaine. Not for me, and definitely not for you. But there's nothing I can do now. There's nothing I can change. We're sentenced to life, you and I. But not to death, Blaine, not to death. We're no dead men walking, and I'm not going to let it ruin my life. And I'm not gonna allow you to let it ruin yours either."

He lets go of Blaine and takes a deep breath.

"Just... come out with me. Have fun. You seem to think you need to be some sort of super-responsible martyr, but you don't. You really don't. It's perfectly fine to let go, once in a while. As long as you know your boundaries. And yeah, you'll make mistakes, but everybody does. You just drew the short straw, okay?"

Blaine knows he's gonna give in. He knew he was gonna give in the moment Brad got up, and not just because he's 21 and he's never been in a club before.

"One hour, Blaine," Brad says, clearly feeling that Blaine needs a little more convincing, looking at him with eyes that hold equal parts challenge and mischief. "Give me one hour and I promise I will never again try to get you to come out if you don't want to."

It's a little past three, Blaine sees when he checks his watch, so he figures he can probably tag along with Brad for an hour, and still make it home before Kurt gets there.

"One hour," he says sternly, holding up a finger at Brad, trying his best not to smile when he sees Brad's victorious grin. "You get one hour and then I'm out of wherever you're taking me. And you're buying."

-o0o-

When Kurt gets home around four thirty Blaine is nowhere to be found, but it isn't until an hour later, when he's debating whether or not to start making dinner yet, that he starts feeling something is off. Blaine is usually home on Thursday afternoons, and when he's not he'll always text Kurt to tell him where he's at and when he'll be back.

Always.

> _Hi, this is Blaine Anderson. It seems I'm busy but leave a message and I'll get back to you!_

The call Kurt makes goes straight to voice mail and he leaves a message instead, sending a text too just in case Blaine's not able to listen to the voice mail for whichever reason. Blaine needs his dinner, he needs his  _meds_ , and however uneasy Kurt still feels about them he really needs to know Blaine has taken them because _Kurt_ needs those pills, too, needs them to do what he can't: keep the virus under control.

Blaine has a one hour tolerance for taking his pills, but six thirty comes and goes with no word from him, and that's when Kurt has to restrain himself from panicking. Gary doesn't seem in the least bit concerned when Kurt calls him, assuring Kurt that Blaine is well aware of the importance of taking his medication on time and that it would take a small catastrophe to keep him from remembering. It only partly calms him down, however, because it still doesn't tell him where Blaine is and why he's not picking up his phone.

> _Hi, this is Blaine Anderson. It seems I'm busy but leave a message and I'll get back to you!_

Kurt eats his dinner alone on the couch. He contemplates for a moment to tell Nick he can't make it to their weekly fitness date, but it's Thursday, which means that if Blaine isn't lying in a hospital somewhere he'll probably be at the support meeting by now anyway. Kurt still leaves a note on the kitchen table before he leaves, just in case, taking his phone with him instead of leaving it at the apartment as he usually does.

He manages to coax Nick into going for a drink afterwards, hoping it might do what 45 minutes of running couldn't - make him forget his worries about Blaine. If Nick notices he's more than a bit out of it, he doesn't say anything, and Kurt is grateful for that, at least, and they talk about everything but Blaine as Kurt tries to postpone going home as long as he can to give Blaine the chance to get there before he does. But when Kurt finally makes it home over three hours later the house is dark and the note on the table lies untouched.

> _Hi, this is Blaine Anderson. It seems I'm busy but leave a message and I'll get back to you!_

There's half a container of ice cream left in the freezer and Kurt takes it out, trying to push away the memory of the day they bought it. He's worked up enough as it is, and the image of Blaine hugging the guy who got them into this mess in the first place is something he really just doesn't want to think about right now. Instead he snuggles down in the couch, a fleece blanket around his shoulders and the container of ice cream held firmly between his knees as he tries to concentrate on some Grey's Anatomy episodes he hadn't caught up on yet, his mobile phone silent on the coffee table in front of him.

He must have fallen asleep somewhere between the second and the third episode, because the next thing Kurt is aware of is the sound of a key scratching against the lock of their door and laughing voices which suddenly become louder as the door opens with a bang, slamming against the wall and making Kurt jump.

"Say it," he hears an unfamiliar voice say as he scrambles up, "I want to hear you say it."

There's another giggle in response, and this giggle he knows, this giggle he would recognize anywhere, but he still freezes after he climbs out of the couch and takes the few steps to look into the hallway.

"Blaine?" 


	7. Chapter 6

Brad has his arms around Blaine's waist while Blaine tries to fit the key into the lock of his apartment, but that's only part of the reason why it takes him longer than he would like to admit to actually open the door.

"Come on, Blaine, admit it - just admit you had fun!" Brad whales behind him but Blaine just laughs, letting out a triumphant noise when the door finally swings open. The weight of Brad pressing in behind him is just a bit more than he can take, however, and they stumble inside, crashing against the opposite wall.

"Say it," Brad stage-whispers in his ear, his hands on either side of Blaine as he leans forward, not touching but close enough so that Blaine can't actually move, his back pressed firmly against the wall. "I want to hear you say it."

Blaine giggles, feeling giddy with the alcohol flowing through his veins, and he nudges his nose against Brad's as he opens his mouth to reply.

"Blaine?"

The voice makes both of their heads snap to the side and Blaine can barely process the image of Kurt, standing at the end of the hall with a blanket held tight around his shoulders and looking like he's just woken up, before Brad takes a step back, not a trace of laughter or amusement left in him.

"K-kurt?" Blaine stammers, not sure exactly of what situation he suddenly finds himself in, let alone how to react to it. He feels somehow like Kurt has caught him cheating, although even his alcohol-meddled brain tells him that's a ridiculous notion, not in the least because -and even after all these months the realization still stings- they're not together. "W-what- what are you doing. Up?"

"Waiting for you," Kurt says, sounding surprised that he even needs to clarify. His voice is heavy with sleep, and he stifles a yawn, pulling the blanket a bit closer around him.

"I-uh... I think I'm gonna go home," Brad says suddenly, taking another step back, pointing at the door over his shoulder. "Nice to see you again, Kurt, sorry for waking you up. Blaine... I'll uh... I'll talk to you later, all right?"

Blaine just nods dumbly, lifting his hand in goodbye when Brad tilts his head first at Kurt and then at Blaine before he steps out of the apartment, closing the door carefully behind him.

The soft click seems to wake Kurt up because he sounds firmer when he breaks the traitorously peaceful silence Brad's departure has left behind.

"Where have you been?"

"Out," Blaine shrugs defensively, because the way Kurt looks at him just makes him feel like a five year old who got caught stealing cookies, and he turns around, avoiding Kurt's gaze as he hangs his coat in the cupboard.

"I can see that," Kurt says, sounding a little indignant, taking a step back to let Blaine pass as he goes to the kitchen. "Are you drunk?"

"No."

He knows it's a lie, even if he's not exactly wasted, but somehow he doesn't want to admit that to Kurt.

"I may have had a beer," he says instead, taking a glass and holding it under the tap. "Maybe two."

"So you're drunk."

"I'm  _happy_."

He turns around swiftly, water spilling over his hand from swaying a too-full glass too fast.

"I had two beers, Kurt, I'm allowed to have two beers, you know?"

"You would be if you'd bother to  _answer your damn phone_!"

Kurt's glancing down, obviously just as surprised by his outburst as Blaine is, and he takes a deep breath before he looks back up at Blaine.

"I called you at least ten times, Blaine," he says, his voice steady although it gets progressively less calm as he continues. "You didn't say anything about not coming home for dinner and I had no clue where you were, didn't even know if you had your pills on you! Do you have any idea how worried I was?"

"Seriously?" Blaine asks, incredulous. "That's what you're going with? I forget to text you I'll be out till later and you're worried about my _pills_? You're just... you don't..."

He drains his glass, shaking his head as he puts it back down on the counter.

"You really don't trust me at all, do you?"

"Well, did you?" Kurt asks sharply, folding his arms in front of him as if it will somehow protect him from Blaine's sarcasm.

"Yes," Blaine bites back. "Brad and I went for a burger and I had my daily dose of chemicals right on time like a good boy. Happy?"

But Kurt just scowls at him.

"Did  _that bastard_  put you up to this?"

"Don't call him that," Blaine says, squinting and growing more annoyed with every minute that ticks by. "He has a name. And no, he didn't put me up to anything. In case you hadn't noticed - I'm an adult, I'm perfectly capable of making my own decisions thankyouverymuch."

He's not sure exactly why Kurt is making such a big deal out of this -it's not like Kurt never goes out with his friends, although, to be fair, the times they don't go out together are few and far between- and he sends him his most indignant glare. He must not be doing it right, though, because his flatmate isn't the least bit impressed.

"Well then,  _Mr. Adult_ ," Kurt sneers, ignoring the blanket that falls from his shoulder as he gestures wildly with his arms, "next time you're taking your own decisions could you maybe be bothered to at least _tell me_ if you're planning on staying away all night? Or, oh, you know,  _check your messages_?"

"I didn't even  _get_ -" Blaine starts, fishing his cellphone out of his pocket, but he cuts himself off when he looks at the screen, sighing in defeat when he holds it up for Kurt to see. "Battery's dead."

"So basically you didn't even look at your phone at all?" Kurt explodes even further. "You didn't think, for even one second, that maybe I could be worried about you?"

"Worried about  _me_?" Blaine asks sharply, eyes squinting. "Or about my pills? Because for a moment there that seemed to be your major concern."

"Oh god, please, you know very well that's not how I meant it," Kurt says lowly as he rolls his eyes, but Blaine barely even hears it. He doesn't want to be angry, but Kurt's treating him like he committed some capital sin and is too stupid to even realize it, and it puts him on edge. Somewhere in the back of his mind he's aware that the two beers he's had aren't doing his judgement any favors, but he can't bring himself to care.

"No, of course you didn't mean it like that," he says scornfully. "I've been taking those fucking things for three years, Kurt; three years, every single day, and I forgot them once. Once. In my second week. So I really don't need anyone telling me how and when I should take them, least of all you, ok?"

He stalks past Kurt and out of the kitchen, wondering how the great night he'd had had suddenly turned into this nightmare. His head is pounding -from shouting or from the alcohol, he doesn't know- and he just needs to get away from Kurt now, even if it means they'll go to bed angry. They can talk about it in the morning.

Kurt, however, doesn't seem to agree.

"You're not being fair, Blaine!' he shouts after Blaine. "I was just trying to help! I know it sucks to have to take those pills but that's no reason to work out your frustrations on me!"

And somehow, that's the drop.

"You don't know  _shit_ , Kurt!" Blaine spins around, shouting. "Just because you were on ARTs for a month doesn't make you an expert, you know? Because you don't have to worry about it anymore, do you? You don't have to worry about pills, or doctor visits, or safe sex, or resistance, or having your dinner on time. Well, I do! Every. single. fucking. day for the rest of my life, ok?"

"Yeah, well, maybe you should've thought about that before you let a stranger fuck you bareback then!"

You could hear a needle drop in the silence that follows, but Blaine wouldn't know. His ears are ringing and he's staring at Kurt as he's trying to process what was just said. For a split second he almost manages to convince himself he heard it wrong, but then Kurt brings up his hands to his mouth, his eyes widening in shock at the realization of his own words, and Blaine knows he had heard it exactly right.

"Oh god, I'm sorry," Kurt stammers. "Blaine, I didn't mean that, I'm sorry, I'm so, so sorry."

Kurt takes a step forward but Blaine raises his arms to stop him in his tracks.

"Don't," he says, voice empty. "Just... just don't."

He feels like the walls are about to crash in on him and suddenly he needs to get away - away from Kurt, away from their apartment, and without another word he turns on his heels. It only takes him four solid steps to make it to the front door, and when he opens it he can't help but looking back at Kurt who hasn't moved an inch. Blaine looks him over just once - looks at the eyes shiny with tears, the slumped shoulders, the arms wrapped around a small, shivering torso.

"Oh, and just for the record," he says poignantly, "he didn't fuck me.  _I_  fucked  _him_."

If he slams the door too hard when he leaves he doesn't care.

-o0o-

The door slams shut with a loud bang that resounds through the apartment, and for a good five minutes Kurt just stands there, frozen on the spot, thoughts running through his mind at lightning speed.

_Should've thought about that before you let a stranger fuck you bareback!_

What had possessed him to think that, let alone  _say_ it? True, he'd been annoyed by Blaine's complete lack of understanding for his worries, and waking up to the sight of Brad pushing Blaine up against the wall hadn't helped in the least, but exactly how their fighting had gotten so heated he didn't even think about what he was saying anymore, was something he couldn't quite wrap his head around. Even now, so shortly after, the whole argument already seems so silly, so _stupid_.

It only serves to makes him feel all the more guilty for what he said, and how he is ever going to be able to properly apologize to Blaine he doesn't know.

He looks at the clock to see it's well past midnight, and for all the self-chastising he's currently doing he simply can't add thinking about Blaine wandering around the city on his own at this time - without a coat. The thought hits him with frightening force: it's the end of October and Blaine just stormed out in the middle of the night without his coat. Somehow, that realization is what shakes him out of his stupor.

It's much too late to even consider calling any of their friends, but after a moment's consideration he does call Gary. It seems to be his best bet: they don't live too far, and Blaine has a habit of crashing at his brother's when he's upset.

That, and Kurt just needs someone to calm him down right now.

It's Benjamin, Gary's fiancée, who answers, sounding only half awake as Kurt explains as vaguely as he can how Blaine ran off.

"When did he leave?"

"Ten minutes ago or something," Kurt says, trying hard to keep the panic out of his voice. It's worse, the dread he's feeling now is so much worse than the worry from before because now he knows there is a very, very real reason to worry.

"Then he can't possibly be here yet," Benjamin says sleepily, and Kurt can hear some muffled noises in the background before Ben starts talking to him again. "Just a minute, Kurt, I'm gonna pass Gar."

"Kurt?"

Gary sounds barely more awake than Benjamin did, but there's something soothing about the familiar voice, so similar to Blaine's, and Kurt feels himself calm down just a little.

"Gar?" he says, voice squeaking. "Gary, he left... he came home like half an hour ago and we got into an argument and I- I said something stupid. Really stupid. And he ran off and the battery of his phone is dead and he forgot his coat and I-I don't know what to do, Gar, I just don't know what to do right now."

He's back on the verge of tears by the time he finishes talking, and he has to bite his underlip to keep himself from actually starting to cry.

"Ok, Kurt, I need you to calm down first, ok?" Gary says soothingly. "Do you- do you want one of us to come over?"

"No," Kurt says immediately, secretly glad Gary doesn't press for details, "no, I need you to be there, if he- if he comes to your place, he'll... he'll need you more than I do. I just... could you just let me know when he gets there? If, I mean? If he gets there?"

"Of course."

There's a short silence, and Kurt closes his eyes, taking a deep breath.

"He'll be all right, Kurt," Gary tries to calm him down. "He's not one to do something stupid, you know that. Even if he doesn't come here, that doesn't mean something happened, okay? You know how he is. He probably just needs some time to cool off. Is there anything else we can do for you?"

Kurt shakes his head, even if Gary can't actually see that.

"No... no, I don't think so. But thank you."

"And don't stay up, ok?" Gary says, sounding genuinely worried. "He's got plenty of friends in town who'd take him in any time of the day or night - and tomorrow morning you'll find him sitting at the breakfast table with apologies."

Kurt huffs, smiling a little at the image despite himself.

"I'm pretty sure I'll be the one offering apologies, really."

"Either way - you should go to bed, ok?" Gary tells him. "There's nothing you can do for now, and I know you, too, you're only going to get crazy scenarios in your head. You'll do both of you a favor if you're well-rested tomorrow. All right?"

"Sure," Kurt says absent-mindedly, already with his thoughts back to Blaine and where he might go if he doesn't go to Gary's.

"Kurt," Gary's voice pulls Kurt out of his reveries. "Promise?"

Kurt sighs.

"Sure. Promise."

"Good night, Kurt."

"Good night, Gar. Sorry for waking you up."

"Not a problem. I'll let you know as soon as he shows up."

"Thanks."

But when Kurt hangs up, his gaze keeps returning to the front door. It would be madness to go out to look for Blaine, he knows that - New York is a crazy enough place to find someone even if you know where to look, and with no idea of where Blaine might have gone to Kurt doesn't stand a chance.

But there's no chance he'll be able to sleep either, not after what he's said, not when he doesn't know where Blaine has gone or what he might do, two more beers in his system than he's used to having. And without a coat. There's a little voice at the back of his head suggesting he probably went back to Brad to finish what Kurt had interrupted, but Kurt shuts it down immediately. That is definitely not something he wants to think about now.

He scribbles a quick note on the back of the one he'd left earlier that night, slips on the shoes with the least amount of laces and tugs on his coat before he grabs Blaine's too. He doesn't even know what he'll say if he even finds Blaine, but it doesn't matter - right now, he just needs to know Blaine is safe.

-o0o-

It's more by chance than anything else that Kurt finally sees him. He's tried the 24/7 coffee shop they sometimes go to. He's traced the way to Gary and Ben's apartment, both on foot and by subway, and he went to the Williamsburg Bridge which, according to Blaine at least, offers the most stunning view in New York at night. He's even made it all the way to Times Square, to the stairs where he knows Blaine likes to just sit and watch people, but in the end he's just there, sitting on a small bridge in the park around the corner from their apartment.

Blaine doesn't look up when Kurt drapes his coat around his shoulders and carefully lowers himself on the plastic bag he carries with him at all times for exactly these types of occasions - he doesn't mind sitting on a wet bridge with Blaine at 4am on a Thursday night, but that doesn't mean he should sacrifice his jeans for it. They sit in silence at first; Blaine with his legs dangling from the bridge, leaning on the railing in front of him with his arms crossed, Kurt a little more stiff, hands in his lap as he watches the water flow slowly below them. It isn't until Blaine brings his hand to his mouth that Kurt actually sees the cigarette in his hand.

"I didn't know you smoked," he says before he can stop himself, a little surprised.

Blaine warily studies the cigarette he's holding, as if it's the first time he's aware it's actually there. As far as Kurt can tell, that might actually even be the case.

"I don't," Blaine says flatly, taking another drag. "I don't smoke. I don't do drugs. I don't drink. I don't have sex. Nope. None of that for me."

"Is that what tonight was about?" Kurt asks carefully, glancing sideways. "Doing stuff you don't normally do?"

"Yes. No. Maybe." Blaine rubs his forehead against his shoulder and sighs. "I don't know."

"Look, Blaine," Kurt starts, "about what I said-"

"It's fine," Blaine interrupts him, the look he shoots Kurt so intense Kurt's mouth freezes mid-movement when he wants to counter that it's most definitely not fine, that it's actually as far from fine as anything could ever be. "You were right. Even if you could've said it a little more tactfully."

Kurt grimaces at the blatant understatement, not sure how to react.

"You know where he took me?" Blaine continues before he even has a chance. "He gave me this whole speech about how I was keeping myself from having fun for all the wrong reasons, how I had to stop punishing myself. He told me all that and you know where he fucking took me?"

He smiles at Kurt over his shoulder, eyebrows frowned as if he still can't quite believe what had happened.

"The fair, Kurt, he took me to a  _fair_. Roller coasters, cotton candy, ... the works. He even bought me one of those sugar-coated apples, you know? How do they call them - pommes d'amour or something?" He chuckles softly, bringing his cigarette back to his lips. "We went to a club after, though, that place on 42nd, I think Nick mentioned it some time ago?"

He looks at Kurt questioningly, but when Kurt just stares back at him with a blank look, he simply shrugs.

"Oh well, I'm pretty sure that was the place. We should go there some time, it was fun. Nice views."

Kurt is pretty sure Blaine must still be drunk - or maybe he is high on something. Nicotine. Or cool night air. In either case, Blaine is supposed to be mad with him, furious, even, but instead he is sitting next to Kurt as if their fight has never happened, casually recounting how much fun he's had on his date tonight. It puts Kurt on edge, feeling that maybe Blaine just isn't mad at Kurt for what he'd said so that Kurt wouldn't be able to be mad at Blaine for what  _he'd_  said. Or done. On his date.

It seems Blaine can read his mind, though, because he glances over at Kurt.

"You can ask me, you know," he says, far too casually for Kurt's taste. "If I slept with him."

Kurt's never been happier for the darkness that surrounds them because he's sure his cheeks are flushed red, and he lowers his head, fiddling with his hands in his lap. He had promised himself not to think about the possibility of Blaine and Brad, and up until now he'd been able to keep that promise for the most part of the evening, which is why he hadn't planned to bring the issue up.

Hell, he isn't sure he even  _wants_ to know.

"No," he says, quavering a little, "no, that's... it's none of my business."

Blaine had told him he would understand if Kurt didn't want to give their relationship a second chance, but it isn't until now that Kurt realizes that the inverse is not true. Because Kurt needs to know Blaine will still be there, that he will be waiting for Kurt if and when Kurt finally manages to sort through the mess and is ready to start over. And he knows he still has a long way to go -his reaction to Blaine's internship applications earlier that week was proof enough- but he's trying, he's trying so hard, and the idea that he would be working this hard only to find out Blaine had moved on without him... he doesn't think he could bear it.

Blaine lets out an amused huff, as if he couldn't disagree more, and takes another drag from his cigarette.

"Well, I didn't," he says, tilting his head towards Kurt, seizing him up for a couple of seconds and Kurt nods, his gaze fixed on the water below them. "You don't believe me, do you?"

"Nono, of course I do!" Kurt hurries to say, his head jerking up, and he pushes away the memory of Blaine being held against the wall by Brad, their faces inches apart. "Of course I do."

He means it, or at least - he  _wants_ to mean it. He's  _trying_ to mean it. Because he  _wants_ to trust Blaine, wants to be able to take everything he says at face value, the way he could before. But Blaine has already proven him wrong once, and it's hard to forget about that.

Blaine must pick up on Kurt's inner turmoil because he sighs.

"Look, Kurt... I... I know I screwed up. I know trusting me is not your first instinct now. But I have nothing to win by lying, or hiding things from you. On the contrary, even. I can't  _make_ you believe me but... if you ever doubt me, just... just remember that, ok?"

Kurt nods again.

It sounds so simple, the way Blaine puts it, and Kurt almost manages to believe it. Maybe not quite, but at least a little bit more than before. It is unexpectedly reassuring, though, because if Blaine believes he has nothing to win by keeping things from Kurt, that must mean he also believes he has something to lose if he does, and Kurt allows himself to think it is  _him_  Blaine doesn't want to lose.

Especially since he really,  _really_  doesn't want to lose Blaine.

"I really am sorry about what I said," he says off-handedly. Because even if Blaine doesn't seem to be waiting for an apology, he still feels like he has to give one. For himself. "I don't know what got into me. I don't even think it's true, I-"

He cuts himself off when Blaine places a hand on his knee, squeezing softly.

"You were tired and worried, and I was at least a little drunk," he says forgivingly. "We both said things we shouldn't have. And  _I_  am sorry for getting so caught up in my evening I didn't think of letting you know I would be home late. Even?"

 _Hardly_ , Kurt thinks, but he nods anyway. Unlike Blaine, who seems to have sobered up, he's even more tired and worn out than he was before, and he knows he really can't do this conversation properly right now.

So when Blaine lifts his hand from where it was still laying on his knee, moving his arm back and behind Kurt, Kurt doesn't hesitate for a moment, lets himself be tugged closer and rests his head against Blaine's shoulder. Just for now, it feels right.

He startles when Blaine jerks his shoulder, and he looks up just in time to see him flick away the cigarette end in a practiced motion that tells Kurt that whatever Blaine says, this is definitely not the first time he has smoked. He would have called Blaine out on it if he hadn't been so tired, but as he closes his eyes he realizes that it doesn't really matter anyway. It's a little white lie, one that Blaine probably tells himself as well as Kurt, and while Kurt would rather have no lies at all, he knows that they're each entitled to have their own little secrets, too.

He lets out a yawn, snuggling in closer to Blaine, letting go of his worries and fears for just a moment and simply enjoying the warmth enveloping him. It could be this simple between them, maybe, if he would ever be able to figure things out. Not if, he decides -  _when_. But until then, he wants to relish in this quiet moment of certainty that everything will work out, regardless of whether that means they'll actually get back together. And when he feels Blaine press a kiss on top of his head, he sighs contently. Cold as it is, he'll stay here, in Blaine's arms, for as long as Blaine will let him.

 


	8. Chapter 7

Something has shifted between them.

They're not back to where they were before - the distance is still there and Kurt doesn't think that's likely to change anytime soon: he feels like he owes it to Blaine not to lead him on until he's absolutely, completely sure where he wants things to go between them. Still, the change is there: in Kurt letting Blaine tell him how his day had been instead of asking about it, in Blaine adding a little more detail to his stories than he used to.

So when they go to pick up Brittany and Santana from the airport early on Wednesday morning the week after their argument, Kurt feels a bit more confident yet, and he only hopes it will be enough for Santana not to pick up on the remaining tension between him and Blaine - the possibility of Santana meddling is not one he's particularly looking forward to.

To Kurt's frustration the two girls have brought a disproportionate amount of luggage and they end up splitting cabs - Blaine pairing with Santana while Kurt shares with Brittany. The arrangement seems ideal until Kurt arrives at their apartment to find Blaine in the kitchen and Santana in his bedroom, luggage and all.

"Did you even  _try_ to stop her?" Kurt hisses at Blaine as soon as the girls have retreated to the room to freshen up for a day of sightseeing. "Or, you know, get her to take  _your_ room?"

Blaine winces, smiling a bit sheepishly.

"I didn't really have a say in it," he says with a glance to Kurt's bedroom door, "your room was the cleanest and she just went for it. And I put my...  _stuff_... in mine, so it seemed like the better option. But, I mean, I can sleep on the couch, you can have my room, it's not a problem."

Kurt sighs, rubbing his hands over his face.

"Nah," he shakes his head, resigned, "I can do the couch, I'll survive."

"Or we could share," Blaine offers off-handedly. He turns around, but not quickly enough for Kurt to miss the blush that's crept on his cheeks, and Kurt can't help but feel a little mollified. He knows Nick will have a field-trip when he says yes, but that's about the only reason he can think of not to. It's not like they haven't done it before, even before they dated, and there is no doubt it would be the most comfortable option for both of them. Nightrest-wise, at least.

"Ok," he says, smiling a little bashfully when Blaine spins around in surprise, looking at Kurt as if he's sure he didn't hear it right.

"Ok?"

"Ok," Kurt nods again, and he lifts a finger. "But I get to sleep on the right side."

He doesn't see the big grin that appears on Blaine's face at his silly demand because Santana enters the room again, closely followed by Brittany, effectively putting an end to their conversation.

"All right!" she says brightly. "Where are we going?"

.

One of their first stops is the Rockefeller Center. It takes more than a little persuasion to convince Santana that standing on an ugly building to look at a pretty one makes more sense than standing on a pretty building and looking at an ugly one, but she finally gives in, although she keeps mumbling protests under her breath all the way through the elevator ride. But when they arrive at the observation deck even Santana has to admit the view is breathtaking. The clear autumn day allows them a fantastic overview of the New York skyline, and they can easily make out Central Park, the Empire State Building and the Chrysler Building, and both Santana and Brittany immediately rush forward to start taking pictures.

Kurt smiles as he sees them go, pointing things out to each other and making silly poses. Brittany in particular seems not to be able to get enough from the view, constantly finding something new to bounce about. It reminds him of the first time he visited himself, a little over a year ago. The weather hadn't been as great as it was today, although it had been earlier in the year, somewhere in September, but Blaine had insisted they go anyway.

"You seem far away."

Kurt startles when Blaine suddenly moves to stand beside him, but quickly recovers, smiling up at him.

"Just thinking," he says dismissively as he turns back to enjoy the view. "We're really lucky with the weather. Though I maintain you should have brought a scarf - it's windy up here."

Blaine doesn't reply and for a couple of minutes they just stand there, looking out over what they both have come to see as 'their' city. Despite the hustle from the traffic below and the constant talking and shouting from the tourists behind them there's an obvious silence between them -but not uncomfortable, it never is uncomfortable with them, not even after last week's fight-, and it feels soothing, almost, so much so even that Kurt is almost disappointed when Blaine starts talking.

"Remember the first time we came here?"

Kurt's not surprised both their thoughts have gone in similar directions - after all, it had been one of the first things they had done together when he had arrived in New York, and it was one of those things he knew he would never forget. He had taken picture after picture, fruitlessly attempting to catch the sense of space and  _freedom_ he had felt at that moment, still reveling in the fact that he had made it, was actually starting a new life in the city he had always dreamt of. When he finally gave up, Blaine had moved behind him, wrapping his arms around Kurt and leaning his chin on Kurt's shoulder.

"Welcome to New York," he had whispered, and for a split second Kurt had been convinced Blaine would spin him around and kiss him. He hadn't, of course, but Kurt would never forget that tension, that fleeting moment of imaginary hope that had haunted him long after that day.

"You mean the first time you took me here," he says, casting a sideways glance. "And yes, of course I remember."

"It was the first time coming here for me, too," Blaine admits quietly, and Kurt's head snaps up in surprise.

"It was?" he asks, incredulous. "But... you'd been living here for over a year by then!"

Blaine shrugs.

"I wanted to come here with you." He chuckles when he continues. "I had to keep myself from kissing you so much that day - you were so excited and happy about everything I showed you and it was all just so... adorable."

It's enough to make Kurt speechless, unsure of what to do with this little tidbit of information, whether he wants to hug Blaine for confirming that what he had felt all those months ago had been real, or kick him for... for what exactly? For making things harder?

Not counting their hug on the bridge the week before Kurt has kept his promise, this past month. They usually kiss each other goodbye in the mornings and hello in the evenings, and there are glances and brushing hands, but apart from that Operation Keep-Your-Distance-From-Blaine has been a success. In theory, at least, because it hasn't brought Kurt the answers he had hoped it would, not in the least because the whole ordeal requires a massive amount of energy and self restraint, and even more so after the aforementioned hug.

Kurt has been fighting the urge to hug Blaine, to  _kiss_ Blaine almost as long as he can remember, but it seems so much harder now, somehow - even if just the idea still freaks him out a little, he can't deny the  _want_  he's hiding. Because he knows exactly how it feels, now. He knows the way his head fits perfectly in the crook of Blaine's neck. He knows the little humming sound Blaine makes in the back of his throat after every kiss. He knows the softness of the skin right above Blaine's hipbones. He knows all that but even though it's right in front of him he can't have it, not before he figures things out, not before he's  _sure_. But despite his best intentions he is not even a little closer to knowing how he's supposed to get to that point than he was three months ago.

He can feel Blaine standing next to him, so close their arms almost touch, but Kurt forces himself to keep looking straight ahead because he shouldn't. He can't.

Apparently, though, Blaine can.

Kurt draws in a sharp breath when he feels Blaine take his hand, squeezing it lightly as if he knows what is going through Kurt's mind, and he hesitates before he squeezes back, unsure of what signal he's sending with that. He doesn't get the chance to think about it further, though.

"Can we go down now?" Brittany pipes up behind them and Kurt spins around, letting go of Blaine's hand quickly as if it was burning him and he only hopes Brittany hasn't seen it - it would be hard to make her understand she couldn't tell Santana.

"Of course," he smiles at her, walking away from Blaine without a glance, as if they hadn't just held hands for the first time in weeks. "Where do you wanna go next?"

Chatting excitedly, Brittany shows him all the things she's circled in her tourist guide, and he lets her lead the conversation and the way as they walk first along Times Square and then down to Central Park to hunt for trolls. He takes them to Broadway and down to the West Village -one of his favorite neighborhoods in the city- laughing when Santana complains loudly about the complete lack of order in the street grid and snapping a quick picture of Brittany's face when what she thought was a statue suddenly pulls her pony tail in Washington Square Park. It isn't until he notices Blaine getting nervous that he even looks at the time - a quarter to six.

"So, ladies, how about dinner?" he asks after exchanging a quick glance with Blaine. "There's a small pizza place a few blocks from here - I promise it'll blow your mind."

There's the inevitable sneer from Santana -"Are you sure it's our  _minds_ that are going to be blown?"- and confusing comment from Brittany -"Do they have banana pizzas?"-, but they manage to agree anyway, and barely half an hour later three pizzas and a goat cheese salad are brought to their table. They're not even five minutes in when Blaine excuses himself to go to the bathroom and Kurt is left alone with his high school friends.

"You should stop being with other people."

It's Brittany who makes the blunt statement as soon as Blaine is out of earshot, and Kurt is not sure exactly what makes his mouth fall open - the remark itself, or the fact that Brittany actually had the sense of mind to wait until Blaine was gone to bring it up. Whatever she thinks 'it' is.

"I'm... not sure I'm following," he replies uneasily, and the look Brittany shoots him is even more confused than he is feeling.

"Blaine looks sad when he looks at you," she explains matter-of-factly, "like San looked at me when I was with Artie. Then I stopped being with Artie and only be with San and then she wasn't sad anymore. So you should just be with Blaine, so he will stop being sad."

 _Oh_.

Kurt casts a quick glance at Santana, but the blank look she gives him makes it clear he shouldn't expect much help from her.

"I'm not with other people, Brittany," he says carefully, "And... and I'm not with Blaine either."

It takes Brittany a couple of seconds to process the information, eyes widening on the realization.

"Why not?" she asks, the genuine curiosity in her voice only increasing Kurt's uneasiness. "Is Blaine with other people? Because you look sad, too, when you look at him."

It's all Kurt can do to not gasp in bewilderment. That Brittany claims that Blaine looks at him as anything else than a friend is already a bit of stretch, even if it causes Kurt's heart to jump in his chest. But for her to state  _Kurt_  looks at Blaine the same way, when he's still unsure about how he feels about Blaine, when he has been fighting for _weeks_ to put some distance between the two of them trying to clear his head... it's nothing short of unsettling, and the way Santana is looking at him now -arms crossed, head cocked slightly to the side, looking as if she's found a mouse stuck in a trap and wonders whether it will be able to get out on its own account- doesn't help in the least.

He's still trying to gather his thoughts when Blaine returns from the bathroom.

"Everything ok?" he asks when he notices the heavy silence hanging between the three former classmates. "Did I miss something?"

"Not at all," Santana replies airily, shooting a quick glance at Kurt which leaves him without doubt they are not done talking about this. "Actually, Kurt was just saying you've been applying for an internship in L.A. - you should tell me more about that."

For a moment, Blaine hesitates, but when Kurt gives him a reassuring smile, he complies, giving the short, censored version of the position he's trying to get in Santana and Brittany's new hometown. Kurt quickly zones out - he had to hear most of the details when Blaine was calling Gary a couple of days earlier, and he really has other things to worry about now, like exactly what the two girls had seen -or thought they had seen- and what Santana would have to say about it.

He sighs.

It was going to be a long weekend.

-o0o-

After that first day the girls mostly go their own way, and much to Kurt's surprise Santana doesn't once try to bring up the issue of him and Blaine. So when Kurt prepares to go to bed on Saturday evening, the feeling of dread and anticipation that has haunted him for the past days has finally dissipated somewhat. Just one more day, and they'll be having the apartment to themselves again. And more importantly - Kurt will have his room to himself again.

It's strange, though, he thinks, stepping into Blaine's bed, how quickly the mattress has re-adapted to his shape. Quicker, certainly, than  _he_ has adapted to sleeping next to Blaine again for the first time in months. Being this close to Blaine, literally, had been harder than he had imagined it would be, but to his relief -even if the feeling was mixed with an unexpected, conflicting sense of disappointment- there hadn't been any unconscious night-cuddling or awkward waking up in each others arms in the mornings.

He tries not to look when Blaine steps out of the bathroom, dressed in nothing more than a pair of sweats - although even those are a concession to Kurt sleeping here, he knows: Blaine runs perpetually hot in his sleep, and usually doesn't bother with pajamas or the like. It's one more thing that Kurt is unable to assess his feelings about, and so, if he is really honest with himself, 'trying not to look' is actually more like 'pretending not to look'. The lights are out, but the blinds are still open and the New York City night lights dress the room in a twilight atmosphere that both hides the flaws of Blaine's body Kurt knows for a fact are there -like the scar on his side from when he fell off his bike in second grade- and brings out his assets. His shoulders, for example. And his abs.

"I will never understand how you can sleep like that," he comments when Blaine slips next to him under the sheets, "especially in winter. I would be freezing."

Blaine shrugs.

"What can I say? I'm hot."

There's a second of silence, but then the cheesiness of the comment has both of them shaking with laughter.

"Oh god, I can't believe I actually said that," Blaine shakes his head when they finally calm down, still grinning.

"It's true, though."

The words have slipped out almost unnoticed, and Kurt draws in a sharp breath when he realizes what he's just said. But when Blaine turns his head at him in surprise, he chances a smile. If he's doing this he can just as well do it right, after all.

"You are."

There's a short moment of silence in which Blaine seizes Kurt up, and Kurt can feel his heart pound in his chest until Blaine finally smiles back and returns to look at the ceiling.

"Thanks."

Blaine's profile is outlined sharply against the background, and Kurt can't help but look at him: his thick, bushy eyebrows, the slightly-too-big nose. His gaze skims over Blaine's lips, determined not to linger there, and he lets his eyes trail further down along Blaine's neck and Adams' apple, his chest, the chest hairs softly glistening in the street light.

"You're staring at me."

Kurt's head immediately snaps back, and he swallows uneasily.

"I'm sorry."

"I don't mind."

It takes Kurt a couple of seconds before he gathers the courage to turn his head again, and he can feel his breath hitch in his throat when he sees Blaine looking back at him.

"How does this come so easy to you?" he asks before he can stop himself. "Us, I mean. How come you fall back in this...  _relationship..._  so effortlessly while it takes me weeks to make one small baby step?"

"I don't." A pause. "It doesn't."

Blaine looks away.

"You're here, Kurt. I was stupid and irresponsible and selfish and still you're here. Believe me, that will never, ever come easy to me."

There's a tremor to Blaine's voice, an undertone of guilt that makes Kurt's stomach twist.

"It wasn't your fault, you know," he says softy, and he means it, too. He reproaches Blaine a whole number of things -the lies, the secrecy- but not that. "What happened that night. It wasn't your fault."

"Now you sound just like Brad."

Kurt flinches at the name. He's still not sure how he feels about Brad, still doesn't understand why Blaine wants to build a friendship with a guy that seemed to be nothing but trouble if Blaine's medical file and their fight last week were any indication - but if he was on Kurt's side for this, Kurt would take it.

"Well then, maybe I should revise my opinion of him," he smiles before returning his gaze to the ceiling, suddenly more contemplative. "I was the sober one, Blaine. You don't even remember what happened you were so drunk. I was sober, and I knew you had issues with sex, even if I didn't know why. And still I took advantage of you being drunk to take something you weren't prepared to give me."

"I shouldn't have gotten that drunk in the first place," Blaine counters stubbornly. "And anyways I should've told you earlier."

That, at least, Kurt can't deny.

"You should've," he says, glad when he manages to keep the judgment out of his voice. He pauses for a moment, wondering if he can ask the question - if Blaine's ready to have that conversation. If  _he's_  ready.

It takes him several minutes to gather the courage.

"Why didn't you? I mean, you didn't... you didn't genuinely believe I would walk out on you, did you?"

For a few long seconds there doesn't seem to be any response from Blaine, who remains still, looking up, and Kurt starts wondering if he even heard the question.

"Not as a friend, no." Blaine finally breaks the silence. "But I... I didn't want you to be my friend. I wanted for you to be more than that. And... as long as I didn't tell you, I had a reason why we weren't together. And it sucked, but at least I knew it was my own doing. Telling you would mean I wouldn't have any excuse not to... I don't know...  _pursue you_ , I guess, for lack of a better term. And I didn't think you wouldn't want to be my friend anymore, but... I wasn't- I wasn't so sure if you would want to be... more. And the thought of you turning me down because of _that_... I don't- I'm not sure if  _I_ would've been able to be friends with you then."

"But... we're friends _now_ , aren't we?" Kurt asks, a little ill-at-ease, because even if the reasons behind their break up were slightly more complicated than just Blaine's HIV status, he had never considered the option that maybe staying friends was hard on Blaine, too. But when he sees Blaine smile back at him, he relaxes.

"Yes. Yes, we are," Blaine says.

Kurt nods, and they lay together quiet for some time as Kurt thinks back of what Blaine had said, how he was scared Kurt would have walked out on Blaine if he had known. He's almost disappointed in his 16-year-old self, to have come across so narrow-minded and prejudiced for Blaine to think such a thing, but he can't keep away the memories his mind conjures up for him, of the way he still flinches when he sees Blaine take his meds, of the words he'd so carelessly flung at his head last week, of his reaction to Blaine challenging him to kiss him. He's all too aware of his ever-present worry about Blaine - whether he eats well, doesn't go out with wet hair, doesn't forget his meds, and he moves his hand, exploring the space between them until he feels Blaine's arm, and he trails his fingers along it to grab Blaine's hand.

"I understand why you didn't, though," he says as he squeezes gently, relieved when Blaine squeezes back. "Tell me, I mean."

"I'm glad you know," Blaine whispers, his eyes glistening in the dark. "Even if that was the last way I wanted you to find out. But I'm glad you know, now. And I'm glad we're still friends."

Kurt swallows hard, pushing away the memory of Brad pinning Blaine against the hall wall, focusing on Blaine's earlier words instead, on whatever it was Brittany thought she had seen.

"Do you still want us to be more?"

He hasn't been able to stop thinking about it since Blaine's night out, if maybe Nick was wrong, if maybe Blaine wouldn't wait for him but replace him with someone who didn't freak out over something a trivial as an internship application. And maybe it wasn't Brad, but Kurt was sure there were tons of other guys out there who would be happy to take Blaine, HIV and all.

It takes Blaine a couple of seconds again before he answers, and he strengthens his hold on Kurt's hand as he speaks.

"You're here, Kurt," he repeats what he'd said before. "You've seen me at my worst, you know my biggest secret, and you're still here. That's more than I ever hoped for. Hell, it's more than I  _deserve_. And I will never again jeopardize that. Never."

 _He feels he doesn't deserve me,_ Kurt realizes with a shock, and before he even knows what he's doing he's rolled on his side, facing Blaine, reaching out to try to reassure him, to tell him they will be all right. But his hand stills mid-air when he sees Blaine looking back at him - eyes shiny from withheld tears, one corner of his mouth lifted in a shaky smile. And he can't do this. He can't tell Blaine it's going to be all right, can't give him that hope if he's not 100% sure it won't be false.

Still, in a way, it's reassuring to know he's not alone being scared of disturbing the careful balance they've built out over the last couple of weeks, that Blaine isn't always as confident on the inside as he appears on the outside. And so he drops his hand, taking hold of Blaine's once more instead.

"Goodnight, Blaine," he says, softly rubbing his thumb over the back of Blaine's hand.

"Sweet dreams, Kurt," Blaine replies, returning the gesture.

The next morning when they wake up neither of them comments on the fact their hands are still locked together.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have never set foot in New York, so my apologies to native NYers who come across this and find any anomalies. But I tried? Also, banana pizza? It's a thing. Yeah, I know - believe me, I know.


	9. Chapter 8

Kurt has just finished breakfast when Santana walks in, rubbing her eyes.

"Do you really have to make that much noise this early in the morning?" she says grumpily, slouching down on a chair.

"Did  _you_ really have to make that much noise coming home even earlier this morning?" Kurt bounces back, secretly enjoying how Santana winces when he puts down his cereal bowl a tad too hard.

"It was Saturday night! In New York!"

Kurt, however, is unimpressed.

"I've had a ton of those and I guarantee you I have never looked even nearly as bad as you do. Although I assure you it would help if you would actually bother to moisturize regularly."

He ignores the glare she sends him as he returns the milk to the fridge.

"So, are you girls packed already? I arranged a cab for tonight to get you to the airport."

"Sure," Santana snorts, "although I'm still disappointed you're not even bothering to spend our last day with us."

"You demanded we pick you up from the airport and give you a decent bed. Nothing was said about providing you with entertainment 24/7," Kurt says airily as he leans back against the counter, his hands wrapped around his coffee mug. "Besides, I've got to go to the library to do some research, and then I'm meeting with Blaine to watch football."

"You're _what_?"

Santana doesn't even try to hide her surprise, and Kurt rolls his eyes.

"Buckeyes. Obviously. But I forgot who they were up against. Blaine!" he shouts towards the bathroom, ignoring the way Santana puts her hands over her ears. "Who are we playing again today?"

"Wo'verines!" comes the muffled reply.

"Buckeyes vs. Wolverines, it appears," Kurt repeats with a nod, turning back to Santana.

"What I  _meant_ ," Santana says indignantly, lowering her hands, "is - since when do you watch football?"

Kurt shrugs, taking a sip of his coffee.

"Blaine went with me to a fashion exhibit a couple of weeks back, so now I go watch football with him. It's a trade-off."

He ignores the look Santana shoots him and instead focuses his attention on Blaine, who's just entered the kitchen and goes straight for the plate with two slices of buttered toast Kurt prepared for him earlier.

"Oh god, thank you!" he sighs, taking a quick bite before he gives Kurt a peck on the cheek. "I can't believe I'm running late again. Why am I always running late?"

"Because you always promise yourself one snooze but end up doing two in the end," Kurt teases as he hands him a cup of coffee. "You're lucky your skin isn't as sensitive as mine or you'd never actually get  _anywhere_."

Blaine smiles back at him coyly, taking a sip from the coffee and another bite of toast.

"I'm lucky I have a flatmate who anticipates all that by making me breakfast," he winks, and Kurt rolls his eyes, pointing at the door.

"Out!" he says sternly, although there's a sparkle in his eye. "Before Justine calls me to ask whether you're even planning to show today. Now shoot!"

Blaine laughs, taking a last gulp of coffee before he puts the mug down, but before he has so much as taken two steps towards the door Kurt grabs him by the sleeve of his sweater and pulls him back, adjusting one or two of his curls threatening to escape the tyranny of the hair gel before he presses his lips against the other man's cheek.

"11.30 at O'Leary's?" he asks softly, and Blaine nods.

"Did you put those prescriptions in my bag?"

"I did - please don't forget, I need them. Now go, break a leg."

Kurt closes his eyes when Blaine returns the goodbye kiss, putting his hand on Blaine's waist to gently steer him towards the hallway.

"And don't forget your sca-!" he shouts, but the door falls shut before he can finish his sentence and he makes a mental note to check whether or not Blaine took his scarf, and to take it with him later in case he didn't.

When he turns back around he catches Santana looking at him, a pensive look on her face.

"What?" he asks defensively, avoiding her eyes as he empties his mug in the sink. "Can't I wish my flatmate good luck when he goes off to perform?"

"You two are so married."

Kurt's gasp for air is clearly audible, and he takes a moment to recompose himself before he turns around to face her.

"What are you talking about?"

"Oh please, Kurt," Santana rolls her eyes. "You prepared his breakfast, he's taking out prescriptions for you, you're going to watch football with him - you  _fixed his hair_ for christ's sake!"

"He's playing a set this morning, he needs to look nice!" Kurt snaps back. "If I hadn't made him toast he would've just left off without breakfast. And the pharmacist is right across the street from where he's performing, it's just easier for him to pick them up."

He's turned back towards the sink, rinsing his mug and breakfast bowl for the second time, but Santana doesn't need to know that.

"And yeah, he takes me places, I take him places,  _because that's what friends do_."

" _Friends_ take each other places they  _both_ like," Santana argues. "Tagging along with something just because the other person loves it so much, that's something  _couples_ do. I honestly don't know who you think you're fooling but-"

"Drop it, Santana!"

Kurt's voice is stark and even more high-pitched than usual, and there's a blush on his cheeks that wasn't there two minutes ago.

"We're friends. Blaine and I... we're just friends."

" _Oh please_ ," Santana smirks, rolling her eyes again, "you're so sickeningly in love with each other you make marshmallows look like a sugar-free snack. The only thing missing is a wedding ring and you could go straight into a commercial for life insurances. Trust me - you're not friends, you're dating."

 _We're not dating!_ Kurt screams internally.  _If we were I wouldn't be so damn miserable all the time because I want to touch him so badly but I can't!_

He doesn't actually trust his voice enough to say anything though, and so he simply stands and stares at the ground, his mouth a thin, angry line as he wills Santana to leave.

She doesn't.

"Now, the curious thing is that you're obviously well aware of each other's feelings," she continues. "Which begs the question: what the hell made you split up in the first place? It has to be something big, something serious. Not cheating, the hottest guy on the planet could be giving the both of you a lap dance and you'd still be making doe eyes at each other. So it mus-"

"I thought I said  _drop it_!" Kurt shrieks, seething now. He feels nauseous just from listening to Santana, and even more so because he can't even pinpoint what it is that's bothering him so much. "You don't know the first thing about us, or why we broke up! There's more to a relationship than love alone, you know - I thought you of all people would understand that!"

To his surprise, Santana doesn't try to argue back. Instead, she looks at him with an almost amused look on her face, a smile tugging at her lips.

"You're right," she says, standing up. "There  _is_ more to a relationship than just love."

She emphasizes the last word just a little, as if she wants to make sure Kurt is aware of exactly what he has just said, and he winces as he hears his own, spontaneous words being repeated back to him. But Santana is still talking.

"And no, I don't know the first thing about you two, or what happened, but let me ask you something: if whatever is keeping you apart could be reversed or undone somehow, would you be together?"

 _Yes_.

It's scary how easily the answer comes to him, and although Kurt's sure he hasn't said it out loud, he can see Santana smirk.

"That's what I thought. So here's a pro-tip, twink -  _deal with it_. Because all you seem to be doing now is ignoring it and take it from me: if you don't step up soon, you might throw away something potentially amazing."

Kurt just stares at her. It was one thing to have  _Nick_  tell him off and accuse him of ignoring the problem, but it's a whole other thing to have Santana do the same - and not just because she doesn't even know what she's talking about.

"Alright, I'm going to wake up Brittany. You have fun researching and cheering today - I'll see you later."

And with that, she disappears into Kurt's bedroom, leaving Kurt to fall against the counter, still shaking.

 _She has no right telling me what to do_ , he tells himself.  _I don't have to listen to her._

Blaine and him, they're special, he knows that. What they  _have_ is special. They've been through so much the past six months but somehow they're still hanging in there, even if sometimes it feels like it's by loose threads only. Which is exactly why he isn't planning on ruining it by hasting into things.

Both Nick and Blaine had been very clear on one thing: he needed to be sure. It wouldn't be easy to be in a relationship with Blaine, and he needs to be sure that that's what he wants. So until he is absolutely, positively, 100% sure, he won't make a move. He can't.

And yes, meanwhile him and Blaine are still close friends. They cook for each other from time to time, they run the occasional errand for each other, hell - Kurt even takes over some of Blaine's laundry sometimes when he knows Blaine is too busy (and because Blaine isn't always as careful with certain items of clothing as Kurt wishes he was). But they're flatmates, it is only natural, isn't it? So what if Kurt tags along to the football game solely because he knows it makes Blaine happy? So what if he doesn't really mind what they're doing if it gives him an excuse to spend time together?

He groans as he buries his face in his hands.

Oh god.

They really  _are_ dating, aren't they?

He's spent weeks trying to figure out where he wants to take their relationship, getting more frustrated with every day that goes by when it has been right in front of him the whole time: his very frustration about not being able to touch Blaine, being away from Blaine -even if it was by his own choice- is the exact answer he's been looking for.

Nick and Blaine had told him he needed to be sure, and Kurt had thought that meant he needed to be sure whether or not he would be able to manage a relationship with an HIV positive man, while really what they meant had been that he needed to be sure whether or not he wanted to be in a relationship with  _Blaine_.

And he wants to be with Blaine.

He wants to be with him so badly it hurts.

He knows he shouldn't. For years, Blaine has lied to him, hasn't said a word about his HIV status. And Kurt meant what he said the night before: he understands it, now, understands where Blaine was coming from. But that doesn't change the fact that it hurts, and that Blaine really should have told Kurt sooner. It was selfish, and stupid, and quite frankly so out of character for Blaine that it had Kurt wonder if he'd ever even known him at all.

But that was just it. There was something that had been so big, so important for Blaine that it had caused him to do something he ordinarily never did, had led him to be selfish: Kurt. Kurt was that something. Because for all the crap Blaine had been through before -at school, at home- in Kurt he'd finally found something good, something that made him happy. And his not telling Kurt stemmed from wanting to hold on to that, not from a lack of concern about Kurt's wellbeing - if it had been, Blaine wouldn't have been so adamant about not wanting to take things beyond just kissing and touching.

It wasn't right. It never would be right, and Kurt wasn't sure if he would ever be able to fully forgive Blaine for what he had done - for what he  _hadn't_ done. But he was sure of something else: the anger and disappointment he felt towards Blaine paled in comparison with the love he had for him. Because after all said and done, he was still Blaine. He was still the guy who serenaded him within five minutes of meeting each other, who asked him to Senior Prom, who Kurt could laugh with, cry with, and be quiet with. He was still the guy who knew exactly what to say to comfort him, who surprised him with crepes for breakfast every so often, who had given Kurt the happiest ten weeks of his life. He was still Blaine. And he was still the guy that Kurt wanted to be with.

So really the question wasn't  _if_ Kurt could deal with dating an HIV positive man.

The question was  _how_.

 


	10. Chapter 9

"Oh god I thought they'd never leave!"

Blaine throws himself back in the couch, folding his arms over his face as if he wants nothing more than to shut out the rest of the world for a while.

"They weren't that bad," Kurt tries to soothe him, smiling, as he puts away the dishes of their dinner in the dishwasher. He secretly agrees with Blaine, but he feels obliged to at least pretend to defend his friends. "A bit... vocal, maybe, but not that bad."

"A bit vocal?  _A bit. vocal_?" Blaine lifts his arms just enough to glare at Kurt. "Kurt, I boarded with  _the Warblers_ and they weren't even half as much to handle!"

"Then you must have boarded somewhere else than I did because in my memory those boys were a whole different league of vocal," Kurt grins, putting a tablet in the dishwasher and kicking it closed.

"At least they didn't  _squeal_ ," Blaine retorts, still indignant. "I'm pretty sure my ears have suffered permanent damage."

He doesn't move when Kurt sits down next to him and takes his left ear between two fingers, pulling it up and sideways to inspect it.

"Looks still functional to me," he says. "A bit out of proportion, maybe, bu-"

He has to duck when Blaine hurls a pillow at him.

"Hey!" he shouts, his indignation only partly faked. "Would you watch the hair? I work a long time on my hair, and you just hit it!"

"Oh no - don't you _dare_ quote  _Saturday Night Fever_ at me, Hummel!"

Blaine yelps when his own pillow hits him straight back in his stomach, but even though he's quick to grab it, Kurt is faster. And meaner, because as soon as the pillow is gone, he attacks Blaine's sides, tickling him mercilessly while he ignores the occasional swat against his head. The struggle is over quickly, and before long Kurt has Blaine pinned down against the couch, panting over him.

"Not. quoting," he breathes. "You were  _ruining_ my hair."

But even in his less than advantageous position, Blaine isn't one to give in easily.

"Santana already ruffled your hair when she said goodbye," he says mischievously, voice low as he lifts his head as far as he can. " _Quoting_."

It isn't until now that Kurt realizes exactly what position they're in: Blaine stretched out under him, his face mere inches from his own, and he quickly pushes himself off of Blaine, rearranging his clothes while Blaine scrambles up, seemingly oblivious to Kurt's sudden uneasiness.

"Movie?" he asks, clearly taking Kurt's sudden silence as an admission of guilt, if the triumphant grin on his face is anything to go by.

Kurt just nods. Right now he doesn't care so much about a silly yes/no game over a  _Saturday Night Fever_ quote -which, admittedly, it had been-, what he needs is distraction of how easily his body had betrayed him after his little epiphany earlier that day. Even if the distance he had put between him and Blaine was obviously superfluous now, that didn't mean he could just abandon any boundaries altogether.

"You pick something," Blaine interrupts his thoughts, "I'm too exhausted to even consider leaving the couch right now."

He demonstrates his words by stretching himself out on the couch, causing his t-shirt to ride up a little, and it's all Kurt can do to get up and not keep staring at the sliver of tan skin that is exposed.

Not tan, he reminds himself, yellow. Yellow because of the drugs Blaine is taking.

He distracts himself by flipping through their DVD collection, not really paying attention as the familiar titles flash in front of him.  _The Sound of Music_ ,  _Evita_ ,  _The Godfather trilogy_ , ... - they've seen them all a million times and he doesn't feel particularly drawn to any of them. The DVD of RENT catches his eye and he hesitates for a moment - he hasn't seen it in ages, and for good reason too: somehow he doesn't think that watching a musical in which somebody dies of AIDS is a good idea. He finally settles for a nondescript romcom, sliding the disc into the DVD player, and he groans a little when he straightens himself and he feels his knees pop.

Blaine is still lying outstretched on the couch, head on the armrest, his arms crossed over his face and his feet only barely reaching the other end. He looks positively adorable, and Kurt forcibly pushes down the urge to lie down next to him.

Then again...

 _Deal with it_ , Santana had said. Kurt doubts she meant cuddling up on the couch together to watch a movie, but still - there doesn't seem to be any reason to avoid physical contact with Blaine anymore. Blaine certainly hadn't seemed to mind during their tickle fight earlier. And so after a split moment's hesitation, Kurt walks over to Blaine, tapping his side with his hand.

"Scoot over, lazy, you're not the only one who's tired."

Blaine startles, lifting his arms to look at Kurt in confusion, but when he sees Kurt is actually serious he scrambles up, folding himself up in the corner. Kurt settles down next to him, ignoring the curious glances sent his way as he grabs Blaine's wrist.

"This ok?" he asks, pulling Blaine's arm over him and wrapping it around his shoulders, cuddling up against his flatmate.

For a few long seconds, Blaine doesn't react, but just when Kurt's convinced he's been too forward, Blaine shifts.

"Sure," he says, his voice still a little breathy with surprise. He pulls the blanket that always hangs over the back of the couch towards him, draping it carefully over the both of them before settling back, allowing them to sit together a little more comfortably.

They sit in silence, and not even five minutes into the movie Kurt can already feel his eyes start to droop. He can't bring himself to care, though. It's been so long since he's allowed himself to cuddle with Blaine -or with anyone else for that matter- and so before long he gives up on trying to keep his eyes open, simply enjoying the moment: the fake cheerful voices on screen, the soft ticking of the clock behind them, and most of all the feeling of Blaine next to him - warm and solid and just  _there_. Tomorrow he'll start dealing with it for real, tomorrow he'll start looking up things and educate himself, as he already promised himself he would weeks ago, so that he knows what he's talking about and he can talk to Blaine properly. But just for now everything is the way it should be: no lies, no secrets, no virus - just them. And that, Kurt thinks as he drifts off to sleep, may be all they need.

-o0o-

David climbs on stage with a big smile on his face, winking towards their table as they cheer him on. Karaoke on Fridays has become somewhat of a tradition, and even though there is only a small group of them today, they'd already had a lot of fun. Still, when the first notes of David's song fill the room, Kurt can't help but roll his eyes and wish Blaine would hurry up and join them already.

_She's blood, flesh and bone  
No tucks or silicone_

David sings, his eyes trained on Mercedes, and when Kurt sees how she bashfully returns David's smile, he stomps her in the side with his elbow.

"Don't lead him on like that," he hisses. "You know he's already head over heels for you, you're only going to break his heart more."

"I'm not leading him on," Mercedes snaps back indignantly, even though she seems unable not to sneak another look at David before she turns back to Kurt. "He knows I'm dating Sam, he's not coming between us."

"I hope so," Kurt says, gritting his teeth, because there's no denying something has shifted between Mercedes and David over the last couple of weeks. Where Mercedes used to deflect David's flirty comments and remarks easily, now she usually accepts them with a nod or a smile - not exactly encouraging him, but definitely not díscouraging him either.

"Say, Rachel and I are going to the shelter tomorrow to pick a cat for her, do you wanna come?"

It's a deflection if he ever heard one, but before Kurt can call Mercedes out on it, Rachel has already risen to the bait.

"Yes!" she squeals. "I asked my landlord and he said it was ok so now I'm getting a cat! You should come help pick! I was thinking a tabby kitten, female, of course, tom cats are too messy. Ooh! Maybe you could take one in yourself? Rescuing animals is  _so_ important, don't you think, and I'm sure Blaine wouldn't mind."

But Kurt shakes his head, suddenly feeling much less cheerful.

"I can't," he says, "Blaine's brother and his boyfriend are coming over for dinner tomorrow and I still need to go shopping. And besides, I don't think we can have a cat. I mean... you know..."

It's not like they wouldn't get permission from the landlord - the apartment is owned by Blaine's parents, after all, and it is unlikely they would deny their son to keep a pet if he absolutely wanted one. No - what Kurt is worried about is  _Blaine_ , or rather, his immune system. A cat, or really any pet, would inevitably bring a lot of germs with it, and he's not sure whether that would be a good idea, seeing as the I in HIV still stands for immunodeficiency.

It seems the others have picked up on the unspoken reasoning too, because the table turns suddenly silent, and David's falsetto sounds shrill in Kurt's ears.

"How  _are_  things with Blaine, actually?" Nick finally dares to break the silence. "And with you? The two of you, I mean?"

Kurt shrugs, not sure how to answer that question.

"Blaine's fine. Like always, I guess. As for _us_..." He sighs and bites his lip before he continues, looking up a little insecurely. "I... I think I want to try. T-to get back together, I mean."

Rachel immediately starts squealing and clapping her hands, and Nick just grins and raises his glass at him. Mercedes, on the other hand, has a doubtful look on her face.

"Kurt... are you sure about that?" she asks carefully. "You do know that's not a decision you should take light-heartedly."

It hurts, for her to have so little confidence in him, but Kurt tries to ignore it, straightening his shoulders.

"And what makes you think I took the decision light-heartedly?" he asks sharply, with just a tad bit more conviction than he feels. "I've been thinking about it a lot and I mean... I don't know. I just... I have to try. I can't imagine my life without Blaine."

"I for one think Kurt is right," Rachel interrupts him haughtily. "True love always triumphs, everybody knows that. Look at me and Finn - I am an upcoming Broadway star and he is going to be a U.S. Army Captain, but despite our differences we are making things work. Because our love is strong enough to help us through any rough patches we may come across."

Mercedes lifts an eyebrow in amused apprehension.

"A U.S. Army Captain? Rachel, Finn's not even going the officer route, how would he be a Captain?"

"He's studying really hard to retake his ASVAB," Rachel says stubbornly with a tilt of her head, "and then they will see he has more potential than they initially gave him credit for and he will go for officer. Besides, that wasn't the point. The point was that we will always be together, no matter where life takes us. Like Kurt and Blaine."

"I don't know," Mercedes says hesitantly, although now at least she has the decency to shoot an apologetic look at Kurt. "Are you sure you know what you're getting yourself into?"

Kurt winces.

"I've been looking up things online," he says defensively, "and there are loads of people who are in the same situation Blaine and I are in. Well... not s _the same_ the same, obviously, but... you know, where one of them..."

He can feel the confidence leak out of him as he lets his words trail, because the lump in his throat that appears every time he thinks about Blaine and the virus gets even bigger when he tries to  _talk_ about it.

It had been hard, even just opening up his computer and typing in the search terms, but Santana was right: he has to  _deal_ with it, and he can't do that by running in circles inside his own head.

He had always thought he was the kind of person who would want to know everything about the condition he had or could have, would be looking up everything online, studying, trying to find out as much as he could, wanting to be informed about every step of the way. His actual reaction had been quite different, however. True, he had conducted a brief but thorough internet search that first day after they came home from the hospital, but the positivity he'd found had been in such sharp contrast with the harshness of the reality he had been faced with at the time that it had all just sounded fake to him.

After that he'd stayed away from any and all medical websites, had zoned out every time the doctor had tried to talk to him about it, as if not knowing about what might be happening to him would somehow make it all go away, make it less real. And when it had turned out not to  _be_ real, he'd been all too happy to leave it all behind him and never think about it again.

But he has been deluding himself, he knows now, thinking he didn't need any background info, because half of the reason why he was -and _is_ \- so scared when it comes to Blaine's medical issues is that he simply doesn't know anything about them. Knowledge  _is_  power, after all.

The realization hasn't made it any less scary, though, and it had been quite frankly nerve wrecking, but it had been worth it, too. The amount of information had been overwhelming, but this time the optimism that most articles and websites advocated had felt encouraging rather than made him bitter, and it has only strengthened him in his hope that what he wants isn't impossible, that he and Blaine can be together, if they are willing to give it a chance.

And Kurt, at least, is willing to give it a chance. And he is going to start by calling things by their names.

"... where one of them has HIV," he finally finishes his sentence. "There's a lot of couples where one of the two is HIV positive. And they make it work."

Nobody seems to have noticed his little hiccup, even though Nick sends him a little encouraging smile.

"Kurt is right," Rachel takes over the conversation once more. "It's perfectly possible. In fact, friends of my dad were in that situation and they were together for over twenty years."

"Really?" Kurt asks, surprised, turning around to face her. "You never told me that."

"Yes, well, I didn't really know about it myself until recently," she says, looking strangely let down. "My dads only told me after I told them about Blaine. I was rather disappointed they thought I would have treated them any differently if I had known. I never would have, of course, but it would have been such a wonderful opportunity to showcase my empathy and concern for the sick and disabled."

Kurt gasps -and not just because Rachel really didn't have the right to tell  _her dads_ about Blaine- but before he can even think of voicing some kind of protest, Nick is already talking.

"So you know them well?" he asks, placing his hand on Kurt's knee in an attempt to calm him down.

"Oh yes, absolutely," Rachel replies enthusiastically, oblivious to Kurt's barely contained anger. "I mean, I don't really remember Robert, he died a couple of years back, but I know Paul - he always celebrates Hanukkah with us."

She yelps when Mercedes pokes her in the side with her elbow and hisses a laden ' _Rachel!'_ at her, while Kurt feels all the blood drain from his face - he was honestly willing to try, but an afternoon spent on the internet wasn't quite enough to make him ready to deal with this particular facet of reality. He doesn't really get to dwell on it though, because next to him Nick draws in a sharp breath.

"Holy mother of George Michael that is one fine piece of man," he whistles, and Kurt looks up, his stomach dropping when he sees an all too familiar head of blond curls at the other end of the room.

"Oh god..." he groans, the previous topic of conversation immediately forgotten, and Mercedes casts him a sideway glance.

"You know him?" she asks curiously. "Because if you do I am very disappointed you have kept him to yourself - Nick is right: he is very, very cute."

"He is also very, very HIV positive," Kurt counters poisonously, partly because he hasn't quite forgiven her for her lack of support, and partly because another familiar head of hair has popped up next to the first, this one darker and just a little more gelled back. His remark has caused all blood to draw from Mercedes' face, and it gives him a strange sense of satisfaction.

"Besides -  _Sam,_ " he adds some salt to the wound.

"Yeah... Sam. Of course - Sam," Mercedes mumbles, quickly snapping her head down when the two men finally catch sight of them and start making their way towards their table.

"Hi guys!" Blaine waves as soon as they get there, moving his arm behind him to push the other man a little forward. "This is Brad, a friend of mine - I bumped into him on my way here, thought it would be okay if he tagged along?"

He asks the rhetorical question to all of them, but his eyes linger on Kurt just a little longer, as if he's aware Brad's presence would be most problematic for him. But Brad's already there, and Kurt can hardly say he wants him out now, so he nods a little stiffly, commenting on Blaine's rather poor choice of jacket instead ("It's  _november_ , Blaine, you can't wear a summer jacket in november, no matter how windproof you say it is. And where is your scarf again?").

They quickly go round the table with introductions. Nick blushes furiously when Brad looks him over with a lewd smile, holding on to his hand just a little longer than strictly necessary, and as soon as Brad turns to compliment David who has just returned from the stage, Nick leans over to Kurt.

"Blaine scored thát when he was sixteen?" he asks, a little out of breath. "Talk about losing your virginity in style - god, he's  _gorgeous_."

"Yeah, well, don't forget what he did to Blaine," Kurt says grittily. "Or how he made him stay out all night a few weeks back. He's a manipulative bastard and he means trouble, okay?"

"Sure," Nick says, his eyes now fixed on Brad, but it sounds more dismissive than compliant and Kurt grabs him by the arm to turn him around because he knows that look.

"Please Nick, please promise me you won't go out with him?" he pleads, but Nick just looks back at him, a little dumbfounded.

"I'm not sure why I shouldn't?" he says, glancing over at Brad and then back at Kurt. "I mean, apart from the fact he doesn't look like the type to do second dates - it's not like people are waiting in line for me and he seemed to like me... seriously, Kurt, you can't tell me you wouldn't want a shot at that."

But Kurt lets out an exasperated huff, shaking his head in disbelief.

"This isn't about wanting a shot - you can't just... like...  _sleep_  with him!"

"Why not?" Nick asks, and Kurt is baffled to see that he's genuinely curious, seems to have no idea of why hooking up with Brad would be a bad idea.

"I told you, he's trouble!" he grits between his teeth, throwing up his arms to support his compelling argument. "Besides..."

"Besides... it would be weird if I slept with one of Blaine's friends?" Nick supplies, eyebrows raised in confusion, and it isn't until Kurt rolls his eyes that he seems to finally catch on.

"Oh..."

"Yes," Kurt bites, " _oh_."

But Nick just looks even more confused, and even slightly annoyed.

"Kurt, how is this even a problem? Just ten minutes ago you were still gushing about how you wanted to get back together with Blaine."

"Yeah, well, I'm kinda still working on the details of _that_ part of the deal," Kurt mutters uneasily, not quite meeting Nick's eyes, and Nick seems to deflate a little at that.

"Kurt..." he says, "Kurt, look at me."

It takes a couple of seconds, but when Kurt finally complies Nick points at a man sitting across from the bar, head bobbing along with the music. He's not particularly handsome, but he has a certain charm over him that Kurt knows Nick appreciates.

"What would you say if I were to try to pick up that guy?" Nick asks.

"I would tell you to be safe," Kurt shrugs, and then smiles a little. "And to have fun."

"So you would trust me to be able to be safe with a guy you don't know, who might have something way worse than HIV, but not with a friend of Blaine's who I know for a fact gets regular medical check-ups?"

Nick's voice is calm, his face open and honest, and Kurt hates it - hates how Nick always seems to be able to break everything down to reasonable tidbits that don't match Kurt's feelings at all.

"It's not the same," he says stubbornly, but Nick just tilts his head, shooting him a look that tells him exactly how silly his non-argument is.

"No, you're right," Nick says, sounding just a little impatient. "Because obviously condoms stop working once you know you actually need them."

Kurt sends him a pointed glare, and Nick rolls his eyes.

"You know when we were together?" he asks, leaning towards Kurt to keep anyone from overhearing. "Short from swallowing there is _nothing_ we did you couldn't do with Blaine. And we had fun, right? I get how sex may be an issue between the two of you - but it's not nearly as big of one as you're making it out to be. I know the rules, I know what I'm doing, so just - don't project your insecurities on me, okay?"

He gets up abruptly, making a point of stopping for a second when he passes Brad, softly touching his hip as he whispers something in the other man's ear that makes him laugh, and when Brad leans forward to say something back Nick laughs in return, patting Brad's hip just once before he continues his way to the bar - but not before he shoots Kurt a challenging look.

For the rest of the night, Kurt is quiet, not even trying to get a spot on stage until Brad proves that his protests of ' _I really can't sing_ ' had more truth in them than even Kurt had suspected, and he feels slightly better after his  _For Good_  duet with Rachel, savoring the admiring smile Blaine sends his way, even if the seemingly genuine awe on Brad's face puts him off just a little. But it isn't until he notices he's been stuck in a dead conversation with Mercedes and David for over half an hour, while Rachel, Nick, Blaine, and Brad are laughing and having fun on the other end of the table, that he decides that maybe -just maybe- he's being ridiculous.

The truth is, Nick's words have left him angry, and the fact that Nick hasn't left Brad's side for a moment -was actually the one to convince him to go on stage to sing with him- hasn't done much to diminish that anger. Kurt's sure Nick's only doing it to spite him but it still feels wrong to let him flirt with Brad like that. But there is nothing he can do - Nick is nothing if not stubborn, and in either case Kurt doesn't have any actual argument against it. Which probably means the real problem is the way he  _feels_ about sex, and not the sex itself.

He's slowly growing used to the idea of kissing Blaine. Even less than a week after he's let go of his self-imposed cuddling-ban he finds himself longing for more, has caught himself looking at Blaine's lips and imagining what it would be like to kiss them again. They've done it before, after all, with no consequences, and it feels safe, somehow. But any time he lets his mind wander further, he remembers _that_ night, and suddenly he'll find himself stuck in a nightmare where there are no condoms or -even worse- where the condom breaks. And he knows there are plenty of couples who don't have anal sex, knows that there's hand jobs, and frottage, there's kissing and cuddling and stroking, but he wonders if it will be enough - for him, and for Blaine. And that's assuming he'll manage to be comfortable with even that, first.

Then again - he is actually considering kissing Blaine now, something which had seemed an insurmountable obstacle just six weeks ago. And now, unlike then, he  _knows_ he wants to be with Blaine.

He'll worry about it later, he decides, adding it to his ever-growing mental list of things to look up before he weasels himself out of the conversation with Mercedes and David and turns the other side, laying his head on Nick's shoulder. Immediately, he can feel Nick's arm snake around him, pulling him a bit closer, and he relaxes, his smile only growing wider when he sees Blaine look at him from across the table. There's a question in his eyes, and Kurt nods to let him know that, yes, he is all right. Because even if tonight has proven he's not quite where he wants and needs to be yet, he's actually starting to feel like he's a little more on top of things at least - confident that, given some more time, he'll get there, that maybe, in a few months or even weeks he could be leaning against Blaine, reach over to kiss _him_ , take _him_ home and wake up next to _him_.

Soon, he promises himself. Soon.


	11. Chapter 10

The next morning finds Kurt frantically running around, brushing his hair while the pasta is boiling, quickly ironing his shirt with the roast still in the oven. He'd overslept, his favorite fish shop had been out of scallops -which meant he'd had to completely rethink tonight's menu- and on top of that he'd discovered Gary and Ben would be arriving at seven instead of at eight. So when Blaine walks out of his room a little after six, wearing a red striped sweater and a blue bow-tie, Kurt doesn't have much patience left.

"You can't wear that!" he exclaims, turning away from the stove to make sure Blaine will see the disapproval on his face. But while the message seems to come across, the reason why apparently eludes Blaine.

"What's wrong with it?" he asks, looking himself over and then back at Kurt. "You said casual chic - this is casual chic."

"It is also what you wore when your brother invited  _us_  over for dinner three weeks ago," Kurt says impatiently, rolling his eyes. Blaine's face falls immediately, taking that beaten-puppy look that always manages to deflate Kurt no matter how angry he is, and Kurt sighs, pushing down his annoyance as best as he can as he walks towards Blaine, cupping his cheek in his hand and gently rubbing his thumb over Blaine's cheek in a wordless apology.

"Sit," he says softly, nodding with his head towards the kitchen table where a small plate of lasagna is waiting for Blaine. "Eat first, and then I'll help you pick something different, all right?"

He turns around to the other end of the counter to open the top drawer and take out one of the little zip-lock bags Blaine uses to sort his daily dose of pills in. Seeing Blaine take them hasn't become any easier, but he knows what they do now, knows why Blaine takes them and why he needs to have them at the same time every day, and it makes them less threatening somehow - more a reassurance that Blaine has the virus under control than a reminder that he has the virus at all.

He puts the bag on the table next to Blaine's plate, and looks back up at Blaine, who hasn't moved at all, a puzzled look on his face.

"Eat," Kurt repeats as he walks back to the stove, not sure what's suddenly gotten into Blaine, "before it gets cold. I know it's not much but I still want you to be able to eat with us, too, later."

Finally, Blaine starts moving, but he stays silent as he finishes his early dinner, and when he puts away his plate Kurt turns down the gas. He hasn't been able to finish the sauce beforehand as he had hoped, but he guesses that, for the time he had, he's done the best job he could - Gary and Ben would just have to accept Kurt spending a little more time in the kitchen in between courses.

"Come on," he says, pushing Blaine towards his room, "let's find you something decent to wear."

.

Dressing Blaine turns out to be a little harder than Kurt had anticipated, seeing as the dark blue button-up he'd mentally picked out for him turned out to have a stain on the collar, and Blaine had flat-out refused to wear the maroon pants Kurt had suggested next.

"Those are way too tight," he had objected. "There is no way I'm wearing those pants in front of my brother and his boyfriend."

They had finally managed to agree on something, though, but when Kurt moves to tie Blaine's bow-tie, Blaine startles, and Kurt quirks an eyebrow, shooting him a questioning smile.

"What?" he asks when Blaine doesn't say anything, just stares at him. "You act like I've never tied your tie for you before. Now stand still, I don't want the knot to be off-center."

In truth, it _isn't_ the first time Kurt has helped Blaine with his tie, although in all fairness he can't remember when the last time was. Before _that_ night, that's for sure. Maybe that's why Blaine stands so stiffly under his touch, Kurt thinks, why he steps back as soon as Kurt is finished. He wants to say something about it, but before he gets the chance the doorbell rings, and Blaine immediately stirs.

"I'll go get it," he says, walking out of the room. "Make sure you wipe that drop of cream off your cheek before you come out."

Immediately, Kurt turns to the mirror behind him, frantically wiping at his cheeks before he realizes there was no cream on either of them in the first place. But when he turns back to glare at Blaine, his flatmate has already left the room, and he rolls his eyes. Just sometimes he's convinced Blaine really is just a five year-old in disguise.

.

It was a silly joke, Blaine knows, but it had been worth it to see Kurt's face and -most importantly- to have just an extra three seconds of alone time to try to recompose himself.

He has no idea what has gotten into Kurt. For weeks, he had avoided any and all physical contact with Blaine, but ever since the girls' visit the previous weekend he seemed to have gone back to the way they had before - cuddling on the couch, hugging each other goodbye, ... It isn't like Blaine has anything against it, per se, but he's just not too sure what it all  _means_. Even if he had missed Kurt's proximity before, at least it had been easier to keep himself from doing something stupid. Like, say, kiss him. Because having Kurt close again, getting to  _touch_ him again, has only made it painfully clear that he is still completely and hopelessly head over heels for him. And when they cuddle up on the couch together to watch a movie at night, or Gary invites the two of them over for dinner, when they cook together, and laugh together and kiss each other hello in the morning, it's hard to remember that they're just friends. Until Blaine needs to take his pills, that is, or he tries to say something about his summer internship. Then the distance suddenly gapes between them, the unspoken fears and worries a bottomless pit that has Kurt running in the other direction as fast as he can. And knowing that if anything is meant to happen between them it is Kurt who will have to take initiative, not Blaine, only makes it all the more frustrating.

"Heya little brother!" Gary beams when Blaine opens the door, immediately moving forward to crush him into a hug. "My better half has a present for yours!"

He points at Benjamin, who is laughing sheepishly, holding up a big bouquet of prairie gentians, and Blaine swats at his brother.

"Don't let him hear you call him that!" he hisses as Kurt walks into the hallway, but Gary just laughs.

"Seeing as he just walked out of your room with rosy cheeks I'm not convinced," he mumbles amusedly between his teeth, but before Blaine can think of a retort Kurt is already standing next to him, kissing Gary and Benjamin hello and cooing over the bouquet, and it's all Blaine can do to smile politely, take their guests' coats and hang them away as Kurt leads them into the living room.

They do have a great time, though, as they usually do when the four of them meet up. Gary has the same razor sharp tongue Kurt has, and Benjamin is a part-time musician, like Blaine, has even filled in for the drummer of Blaine's band on some occasions, and as a result they never run out of things to talk about.

But when they have finished the main course, and Kurt is in the kitchen preparing dessert, Gary turns to Blaine with a question Blaine hadn't thought he would have to hear that night.

"So, how did last week's test come back?" Gary asks, looking at Blaine innocently as he dabs his lips with his napkin. "Any improvement?"

Immediately Blaine can feel the panic rise in his chest, and he glances at the kitchen where, fortunately, Kurt seems blissfully unaware of the new conversation topic. Despite Gary's insistence, he still hasn't told Kurt about the possible problem with his medication, and he has a feeling Kurt will not appreciate finding out through any other source than him.

"Nope, next test in a month, then probably cocktail switch, now shut up before he hears you!"

The words come rushing out of his mouth, and he stares his brother down, begging him with his eyes to drop it already, but his hope is futile.

"He needs to know," Gary bites, trying to shrug off the hand Benjamin has laid on his shoulder in an attempt to calm him down, but Blaine squints, leaning forward.

"Maybe so, but it's still  _my_  call to make," he grits through his teeth. "This is between Kurt and me and you have no right to interfere with that."

That's how Kurt finds them sitting at the table when he returns from the kitchen moments later: the two brothers glaring at each other, Benjamin's hand back on Gary's shoulder, softly but firmly holding him back, and he looks between them in confusion.

"Everything all right?" he asks, a little hesitant and not in the least bit reassured by the broad grin Gary flashes in his direction.

"Oh yes," Gary responds airily as he straightens himself, pushing away his boyfriend's hand once more. "Blaine here was just telling us all about his last test results, weren't you, Blainey?"

"Test results?"

Kurt's voice sounds just a little higher pitched than usual, and Blaine has to give him credit for not freaking out on the spot. Because despite the clear hint of panic and apprehension in his eyes Kurt continues to serve each of them their dessert, his eyes big and pleading as he looks at Blaine for an explanation, and it's almost more than Blaine can take.

 _Tell me he's joking_ , Kurt seems to ask,  _tell me this is not something more you've kept from me, not again._

And Blaine is going to kill his brother as soon as he can get away from Kurt - because he'd promised himself, he'd promised  _Kurt_ he would never do this to him again, and yet her they are. These are the times Blaine wished they would be able to talk about these things more easily -or really, at all- although if he's honest with himself he has to admit he probably wouldn't have told Kurt either way, not until there was an actual reason for concern. There doesn't seem to be a way out of the conversation, though, and maybe, Blaine thinks, maybe if he would just explain himself here and now, in front of Ben and Gary where he knows Kurt won't want to make a scene, maybe then they can just leave it at that and forget about it.

"I had an extra test last week to see if my meds were still working properly," he therefore says stiffly, keeping his eyes on his brother and almost challenging him to call him out on his toned-down version of the facts. "They're thinking of changing my cocktail."

"It's a normal procedure," Benjamin's deep voice suddenly adds, "as time passes, the patient's needs do too, so sometimes switching therapy is the best thing to do."

Blaine shoots his future brother-in-law a grateful look. He's in med school, and so Kurt will hopefully attach at least some value to his words, and not worry about Gary's not-so-off-hand remark too much. It seems to work, because after just a split second of silence Kurt nods, and when he sits down he raises his glass.

"To us, then!" he says cheerfully, his smile widening when first Benjamin, then Blaine, and finally Gary join him for the toast. But even as the conversation shifts to easier topics, Blaine can feel Kurt's eyes on him throughout the rest of the meal. He's been hoping for so long they could find a way to  _talk_  to each other the way they could before, that they would finally acknowledge the elephant in the room with them and give him a place, tonight he prays that, once again, Kurt's fears and insecurities will keep him from bridging the gap.

.

"See you later!" Kurt waves their visitors goodbye. "And thank you so much for the flowers!"

He's not surprised to find Blaine's no longer standing behind him by the time he closes the door, and he can hear the slightly too-loud clattering of plates and glasses coming from the kitchen as Blaine loads their dishwasher. The mere fact he's actually doing it spontaneously tells Kurt more about how much Blaine wants to avoid this conversation than any words could have, and it makes him all the more angry.

To be completely fair, he isn't exactly jumping for it either, but they have to, he knows. Because if there's one thing he's learned from his internet research it is that, no matter what Benjamin said, ART cocktails aren't just switched without a good reason. And he already worries himself sick over Blaine as it is - he needs to be able to trust that his drugs, at least, are doing what they're supposed to do.

"So, care to tell me what that was all about?" he asks when everything is cleaned up and there's nothing more Blaine can distract himself with.

"What _what_ was about?" Blaine evades the question, moving to the couch and turning on the television. Kurt doesn't even bother to block Blaine's view to the screen but immediately moves to pull out the plug, and Blaine rolls his eyes at Kurt's drama.

"Why didn't you tell me you got tested?" Kurt repeats.

"I get tested every four months," Blaine says, still feigning ignorance, and it's slowly getting on Kurt's nerves. "It's standard procedure, you know that."

"As far as I got it this particular test wasn't standard procedure at all," Kurt frowns, folding his arms. "And I wasn't asking you why you got tested, I was asking you why you didn't tell me."

"Because I didn't think it was important," Blaine explains agitatedly. "It was a routine check up - I've had a gazillion of them over the years and I have even more to come. If you absolutely want to come along, don't let me stop you, but I'm warning you, it will be boring and quite frankly a waste of your time. Now can you plug the TV back in?"

Kurt's jaw clenches.

"This is not about me coming along or not," he says tightly, "this is about you not telling me what's going on with you."

"Well, I'm sorry, but I seem to have missed the part where I have the obligation to tell you everything that's going on in my life," Blaine sneers, and it only serves to fuel Kurt's anger further.

"It was right there with the part where we're  _friends_ ," he shoots back, "or doesn't that mean anything to you?"

"Oh, it means a lot to me," Blaine says, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "The question is, does it mean anything to  _you_?"

Kurt's jaw falls open. After everything they've been through, everything that's happened between them, Blaine is actually questioning  _his_ loyalty?

"Of course it means something to me! Why is that even up for discussion?"

"Because I can't count on you!" Blaine suddenly exclaims, arms flailing. "You insist I don't take my pills in private, but when I take them at the dinner table you look away. You spent  _weeks_ avoiding me without any explanation at all, and then suddenly you decide to get all cuddly and touchy with me and just expect me to go along with it. You say you want me to be honest with you but every time I make an effort you freak out. I just never know how you'll react to something and that makes it really hard to be around you sometimes!"

The words cut deep, the truth behind them stinging, and Kurt can feel the tears burn behind his eyes.

"Well, sometimes it's hard to be around you, too!" he shouts back, but there's no real anger in his voice, just disappointment and insecurity. "And you're not being fair! I made an extra dinner for you tonight,  _I gave you your pills_! Yesterday Mercedes tried to convince me to take a cat and I told her we couldn't! I try, you know. I try so hard - I make sure you have a healthy dinner on time, but then you go out with wet hair and no scarf when it's freezing outside and it's like you don't even appreciate what I do for you!"

"But that's just the point!" Blaine exasperates. " _I don't want you to do all that for me!_ "

Kurt gasps, positively on the verge of breaking into tears now, because he can't believe this is happening, how with one single sentence Blaine dismisses all the effort Kurt has made in trying to make things work again. It seems Blaine picks up on his inner turmoil, though, because he takes a deep breath, rubbing his face with his hands before he looks back up at Kurt, his shoulders slumped and looking more defeated than Kurt has ever seen him.

"I don't want you to do any of that, Kurt," he repeats a little more flatly, even though his tone is still insistent. "I just want you to  _talk_ to me. You promised you wouldn't bottle things up and would talk to me if you needed to. I know you have questions, and fears, but instead of coming to me you go to Nick, and Rachel, and god knows who else. And I'm not saying you  _can't_ talk to them, but don't you think _I_ know a little better how this all works? Because I  _know_ it's hard. You really think I don't know that? You think I don't see how you flinch and walk on eggshells every time the topic of conversation comes even  _close_ to anything HIV-related? And I just... I just want you to fucking  _talk_ to me. Why won't you just  _talk_ to me, Kurt?"

Kurt dips his head, wrapping his arms around himself because he's sure if he lets go of himself he might just crumble. He doesn't know when the conversation changed from being about Blaine keeping secrets to being about  _him_ , and he's not quite sure he's ready to admit to Blaine everything that's been gnawing at him.

"Because I feel so silly," he finally says, so softly he hopes maybe Blaine just won't hear it. "Those people on the internet, and Nick, and you... you make everything seem so easy and self-evident and it makes me feel like I'm seeing problems that aren't there and it all seems so stupid but I still can't get over it. And it's just one thing after another, you know - that group, and your meds, and Brad and Mercedes, and that stupid internship, and now apparently those tests, and sometimes it's just a bit much, ok?"

Blaine holds out his hand and when Kurt takes it, he pulls him closer, wordlessly asking him to sit down next to him.

"It's not silly, Kurt," he says. "It's really not. It took me  _years_  to get to where I am now. Do you... do you remember when you first transferred to Dalton? When I got sick and you got so frustrated because the nurse wouldn't give me anything?"

Kurt nods, wiping his cheeks with his sleeve, and he tilts his head questioningly, not quite understanding what Blaine is trying to say.

"I was having a really rough time then," Blaine starts explaining. "I'd spent the whole summer at home, trying to avoid my parents who had no clue how to deal with their pubescent HIV-positive son, and I got so sick of it all. I'd only been on meds for just a little over a year but the idea that it would never, ever end got me so angry. So I stopped taking them. I skipped doctor's appointments. Refused to go home during the weekends or even talk to my parents. They started having the school nurse supervise me to get me back on my meds, but I would try to hide the pills under my tongue or something equally stupid. Taking them irregularly was worse than not taking them at all, and I developed resistance. I got a new cocktail -this was right before we met- but it gave me the worst nightmares. The next one got me puking my guts out, as you may well remember. And then finally we found something that worked, and I found a reason to actually stick to therapy."

He smiles up at Kurt, squeezing his hand, and Kurt can feel his eyes widen when the implication of Blaine's words sinks in.

"But that was almost two years after I got diagnosed," Blaine continues, "and it still wasn't until I got to New York that I really started to accept the situation for what it was and make the best out of it. But it took a lot of time, and a lot of talking to a lot of people."

"Like the support group?" Kurt asks meekly.

"Like the support group," Blaine confirms. "And Gary. And yes, some people take it all very lightly and don't make a fuss about it, but for others it's more difficult. And that's ok. So... don't be too hard on yourself, ok?"

Kurt shrugs, his gaze focused on the couch between them, not quite ready to meet Blaine's eyes yet.

"I just don't know what to do," he says, sniffing a little still, and Blaine smiles, propping his elbow on the back of the couch.

"Talk to me, maybe?" he suggests. "And, you know, stop treating me like I'm sick?"

Kurt flinches away, but Blaine grabs him by the wrist, tugging him closer.

"Hey... hey, don't do that," he says, ducking his head in an attempt to make Kurt look at him and he reaches out to lift Kurt's chin with his finger when Kurt doesn't give in at first. "This is not me blaming you for anything, this is me talking to you about us, ok? Because I know that you're worried, but I need you to understand I'm  _not._   _sick_ , Kurt. I have a chronic infection, but I'm not sick. And yes, a healthy lifestyle is important, but not especially more so for me than for anyone else. My CD4 count is at 1100, that's perfectly normal - my immune system can take a common cold or a pet. So if you want a cat, take a cat; if you can't get dinner ready on time, I'll fix something myself, and if I can't I'll order take out. It won't kill me. Promise."

Kurt winces at Blaine's last words, but Blaine moves his hand to cup his chin, gently turning Kurt towards him.

"Listen - I like that you take care of me. I like that you care  _for_ me. But I'm more than just that virus, Kurt. And if you can't look past that there's only so much I can do. I don't want you to be my personal nurse, I don't want you to organize your life around me, let alone this infection. I want us to be friends."

"Friends?" Kurt raises an eyebrow, and if the conversation wasn't so serious, he would probably chuckle at the bashful smile that appears on Blaine's face. Instead, he puts his hand over Blaine's, giving it a small squeeze as he lowers their hands together.

"You really feel like I'm mothering you?" he asks meekly, glaring a little when Blaine starts chuckling.

"Smothering, more like," Blaine says, his smile widening when Kurt swats at him. "No, it's... sometimes it's a bit... much."

Kurt nods, pursing his lips.

"I'm sorry," he says softly, not quite looking at Blaine. "That... that wasn't the intention. At all. I just- I feel so useless sometimes - I want to be there for you, but I don't know how, and then I bump against my own boundaries and it's all such a mess. And I..." He looks down before turning his gaze back to Blaine. "I worry. I worry about you, about us, because it seems like I always miss something, like every time I think I know it all, you said it all, something new comes out that you haven't been telling me and I start worrying about all the other things you might not be telling me and I... I just need you to tell me you're all right. Sometimes, I just need to hear you're all right."

"Well, I'm all right," Blaine says, after a little pause, his voice quavering slightly. "And I'm sorry, too. I tried to protect you, not to worry you. That obviously didn't have the desired effect. As I should have well known."

Kurt frowns, and Blaine lets out a small chuckle.

"Gary told me I should let you decide what you could and couldn't handle," he explains. "Because I didn't want to bring up the tests before I knew for sure what was going on, didn't want to add it to all the everything else you were already struggling with. Gary disagreed. So don't even think for one second him telling you about this was an accidental slip on his part. I'll have to have a word with him about that, by the way."

They smile at each other, the type of shy smile people exchange when they've just come out of a big fight, and they think they're all right now, but aren't quite sure yet.

"So," Blaine says after a short silence, "you want to know what's going on?"

Kurt nods, his stomach clenching in anticipation, but really if he can't make it through this, how can he ever expect to make it with Blaine?

"The last routine check-up in October showed that my kidneys weren't doing as well as they should have," Blaine starts. "Nothing alarming, and since it has been a stressful summer with... well, with everything that's happened, it could have been a lot of things, and it didn't seem that much out of the ordinary. But my doctor thought it best to keep a closer eye on it anyway, so we decided not to wait the usual four months but have an earlier follow-up test. Which is the one that came back yesterday."

"And?" Kurt prompts when Blaine doesn't continue, although he already knows the answer.

"... and the values hadn't improved. On the contrary, actually."

"So what does that mean?" Kurt asks, and he feels the panic rise in his chest. "Your kidneys are failing? Does that... does that mean you're getting AIDS?"

"My kidneys  _might_ be failing," Blaine corrects him, although that just sounds like semantics to Kurt, "and no, I'm not getting AIDS - you don't get that diagnosis unless your CD4 count drops below 300 or something, and as I said, I'm way above that. There's really very little chance I'll ever even get AIDS. Anyways, I'll have another test before Christmas, and if things still haven't improved by then I'll probably switch cocktails. It's one of the meds I'm on that is causing it, most likely, it's a fairly common side effect."

"So they give drugs which they know cause kidney failure to people that are already sick with HIV?" Kurt asks, incredulous. "How does that even compute?"

But Blaine shakes his head.

"First of all: not. sick," he says pointedly, "secondly: my kidneys are still coping; and thirdly: it's very hard to predict how someone will react to certain drugs, especially long-term, so really all you can do is figure it out empirically - just try and hope for the best."

But all Kurt hears is that, apparently, Blaine is on drugs that are ruining his kidneys, and his doctor won't do anything about it.

"So they're using you as a guinea pig?" he exasperates. "They can't just... you can't let them do that! You need - we need to get you to the hospital, they can't just wait another month before doing something, suppose something happens and-and your kidneys get damaged or something, then what?"

He tries to get up from the couch, dragging Blaine along with him, and he vaguely realizes he's rambling but he can't help it - Blaine is hurting and nobody, not even Blaine himself, seems to take it seriously.

He's not sure when Blaine moved closer to him, or when he took his face in his hands, but suddenly he's right there in front of him, telling him to breathe, to calm down and to just breathe, and slowly Kurt can feel his heart rate go down again, can feel the panic subside until breathing becomes easier and Blaine seems to consider it safe to let go of him.

"You know, if you're trying to prove Gary wrong, you're doing a great job," Blaine says jokingly, but his face is so open, so honest, that Kurt knows he's not trying to simply dismiss him. "You're panicking and it's not even necessary."

"But-" Kurt starts before Blaine puts a finger against his lips, cutting him off.

"But nothing. Your dad may have allowed you to fuss over him, but I'm not having it. I'm not your dad, and you're not my mother. You remember how we got you on a different cocktail after that first week because you weren't reacting well to them, right? It's the same thing now. And if I'm not worried, if  _the doctor's_ not worried, then that's  _because there is nothing to be worried about_. Do you honestly think they would let me go home if I could drop dead any minute? My brother would prosecute the hell out of them."

"And me," Kurt pipes up, bringing a smile to Blaine's face.

"And you," he concedes with a nod. "They're keeping a close eye on me - I'm fine, I will be fine, so don't worry, all right?"

Kurt nods, even though it's more to confirm he heard what Blaine said than because he actually agrees. He takes a deep breath.

"When is the next test?"

"December 12."

"And how long does it take for the results to come back?"

"A couple of days? A week, tops."

"Ok," Kurt says determinedly, sitting up a bit straighter and waving his finger. "I'm warning you now, Anderson - if I don't hear anything about this by the 20th I'm going to take your whole bow-tie collection hostage until you tell me."

Blaine gasps in mock horror.

"You would never!"

Kurt shoots him a pointed look, and Blaine laughs and places his hand over his heart.

"I promise I'll keep you informed. Better?"

He opens his arms and Kurt takes the invitation, scooting closer to Blaine and snuggling up against him.

"While we're at it, though," he hears Blaine say above him, "is there anything else you wanted to talk about?"

_Why are you only considering internships in HIV-active associations? What do you talk about during those support group meetings? Why do you want to be friends with Brad so badly? How am I ever going to have sex with you?_

Kurt shakes the thoughts out of his head immediately, however. Despite Blaine's reassurance that he's not being silly, he feels the first questions might be just a little too personal, and he needs to know a little more about the last before he can talk about it to Blaine.

"No," he therefore says softly, pushing himself a little tighter against Blaine. "But thanks for asking."

"Thanks for talking to me," Blaine murmurs back, pressing his lips against Kurt's hair.

"Promise you'll tell me if there's anything else I might possibly want to know?" Kurt asks, and he feels Blaine hum in agreement.

"If you promise me you won't stop talking to me again?"

Kurt nods, letting his thumb stroke over Blaine's chest, and when Blaine grabs his hand and pushes it back, he looks up at him a little indignantly.

"What?"

"I just wanted to ask one more thing?" Blaine says seriously, although there's a mischievous twinkle in his eyes when Kurt cocks his head, surprised.

"Can you plug the tv back in? I want to catch the last part of The Bachelo-"

He's not nearly fast enough to duck the pillow Kurt hurls at him.

 


	12. Chapter 11

When Kurt wakes up the next morning it's eerily quiet in the house, even for a Saturday morning. The door to Blaine's room is open, but there is no trace of Blaine, neither in his room nor in the living room, until Kurt sees the note on the kitchen table.

> _Meeting a couple of friends, back by lunch. B xx_

Kurt frowns - he doesn't remember Blaine saying anything about meeting friends earlier. But their fight the night before had once again made it painfully obvious that even though Blaine had clearly been trying to be more open towards Kurt lately, he still had his own idea of what Kurt should or shouldn't know. Kurt tries to shrug it off, however, telling himself Blaine probably just forgot to mention it and hadn't wanted to wake him up. In any case, at least he'd left a note, and Kurt could ask him about it when he got home.

He spends the morning cleaning and doing some laundry to distract himself, and when Mercedes texts to move their shopping date to next weekend, he decides to make himself comfortable in the couch with a book instead. He's not even two chapters in when he hears the familiar sound of a key turning in a lock, and he turns around to see Blaine enter the apartment, his shoulders hanging low and not looking at all as if he'd just had a fun drink with friends.

"Hey baby, where have you been?"

Blaine startles visibly at Kurt's voice, looking at him in confusion as if he hadn't expected Kurt to be there.

"I thought you were gone shopping with Mercedes," he finally says flatly, hanging his coat over a kitchen chair and moving to the coffee machine.

"She wasn't feeling well," Kurt explains, "we've moved it to next weekend. What did you do this morning?"

"Out with friends," Blaine says, still in the same, flat tone. "I left a note."

"Yeah, I saw," Kurt says, trying to push down his disappointment at the lack of information, if not exactly who Blaine had met up with then at least what they did. But Blaine offers no further comments and instead starts preparing himself a cup of coffee in silence as Kurt watches him, studying Blaine's back while he works. Blaine is allowed his privacy, Kurt knows that - he's allowed to have things he'd rather not discuss, he's allowed to have his own little secrets. But with Blaine there's a very thin line between the things he keeps to himself simply because they're private, and the things he doesn't tell anyone because he doesn't want to burden them, and while it's clear  _something_  has happened to Blaine this morning, Kurt has no idea in which of the two categories it falls.

Still, the night before Blaine had told Kurt to  _talk_  to him if there was anything bothering him, and so when Blaine makes for his room, coffee cup in hand, clearly not intent on spending any more time in the living room than necessary, Kurt just blurts it out.

"Are you all right?" he asks just as Blaine passes him, and when Blaine stops to look at him Kurt can see his eyes are slightly red. It only increases his worry. "Did something happen?"

Blaine pauses for a moment, eyes darting around the room, seemingly conflicted about what to say.

"It's ok," he finally says, taking a deep breath. "It's not-... I'm ok, I promise. I just need some time for myself, now."

He starts walking again and Kurt scrambles up, turning around to watch him. There's something in the way Blaine's shoulders are slumping, in the way he's holding on to that cup of coffee, that sets something off in Kurt, and even if he knows rationally it's unlikely Blaine would have gotten more bad news about his test on a Sunday, his imagination is already coming up with at least five possible near-death scenario's.

"Blaine?" he asks cautiously, a little relieved when Blaine stops and glances over his shoulder. "You know you can talk to me, right? We said... yesterday we said we would talk. If- if you want. Of course."

Blaine closes his eyes for a moment, his smile somehow simultaneously grateful and sad when he looks back up.

"I know. I just... I don't think that's a good idea right now," he says softly, but firmly. "But thank you."

There's a hesitant undertone in his voice, though, that makes it clear to Kurt that, once again, he's trying to protect Kurt, and it sets off every alarm bell in Kurt's mind.

"Blaine," he pleads. "Don't shut me out. Please? I need to... I need to know I don't have to worry. I can take it - I can. I promise."

The look on Blaine's face makes it clear he's not sure he shares Kurt's conviction, but Kurt stands his ground as they stare at each other. Because he wants to learn - _needs_ to learn- how to cope with all of this, and he'll never do that if Blaine keeps protecting him. And he knows that, if  _Blaine_ is struggling with something, there's no doubt that Kurt will be struggling even harder, but he hopes maybe the struggle will be easier for both of them if they can tackle it together.

"Kurt... ," Blaine starts, but he doesn't finish the sentence, and Kurt tilts his head, eyes pleading.

"Blaine... please?"

Blaine bites his lip, taking a deep breath as he looks around the room, eyes darting everywhere before they finally settle on Kurt.

"I missed a call yesterday during dinner," he says slowly, deliberately, holding Kurts gaze as if he's registering every minute reaction, ready to stop talking at the slightest hint of panic or discomfort. "From Mark. He's... he's our group leader. Support group leader."

He takes another breath, looking down at his cup of coffee, his knuckles almost white from how tightly he's holding on to the cup.

"One of... one of our guys, his- his wife. Died."

Kurt can feel his heart skip a beat - even if Blaine doesn't specify what she died from, his reluctance to talk about it and the obvious link with the support group makes it all too clear. Still, none of that matters when Kurt sees the defeat Blaine's slumped shoulders speak of, and within seconds he's out of the couch, wrapping his arms around Blaine who hugs him back a little awkwardly, coffee cup still in hand.

"Oh god, Blaine, I'm sorry," Kurt mutters, one hand stroking through Blaine's hair, "I'm so, so sorry."

He tries not to think too much about the woman who passed away, tries not to think about the how and the why and that one thing she had in common with Blaine; and he tells himself to focus on  _Blai_ _ne_  instead, because he can't even begin to imagine how it must be for Blaine to lose his friends, people he knows and loves, knowing that what killed them lives inside him, too.

He feels a warmth where Blaine's eyelashes brush over his skin, but it isn't until Blaine draws in a shuddering breath that Kurt realizes he's crying. He immediately pulls Blaine in just a little closer, and minutes pass as they simply stand there, holding each other, until Blaine gives Kurt a little squeeze to let him go, and he steps back.

"Come on," Kurt says softly, taking Blaine's hand, "let's sit down."

They walk over to the couch, and Blaine sets down his coffee before he curls himself up in one corner of the couch.

"I'm sorry," he huffs thickly, wiping at his cheeks with his free hand. "I don't even know why I'm crying - I only ever met her once."

"Hey, no," Kurt says as he places his hand on Blaine's knee, "you don't have to know someone to grieve for them."

He rubs his thumb over Blaine's thigh and Blaine gives him a grateful smile, taking out a handkerchief to wipe his nose. For a while they sit in silence, and as Kurt watches Blaine trying to pull himself together the reality of the situation slowly sinks in - at least, if Kurt understood correctly.

"Did she... was it... ?" he asks tentatively, and despite his best intentions his heart clenches when Blaine nods.

"Well, pneumonia, technically, but she had AIDS, yeah..."

He sniffles, and Kurt takes a breath.

"How old was she?"

"56," Blaine replies, and Kurt swallows thickly.

'A normal life span' almost all websites had told him. Given proper medical care, HIV patients could have a normal life span. But that required the meds to work, and at only 21 Blaine already wasn't reacting well to his. He'd already developed resistance once before. What if one day there wouldn't be any back up cocktail left? What if one day the doctors would tell them to just suck it up and deal with it, that there was nothing more they could do if Blaine's body would not cooperate?

"Kurt - NO!"

Blaine must have somehow guessed which direction Kurt's thoughts had been taking because he has scooted closer to Kurt, taking his head in his hands so that Kurt has no choice but to look at him.

"Dianne and George were diagnosed only a couple of months back," Blaine says firmly, not once tearing his gaze away from Kurt, "after she ended up in hospital with pneumonia three times in a row. They must have been positive for years but they didn't know, never got treatment, so by the time diagnosis came her immune system was virtually non-existent. George was stronger, he's back at 4-500 CD4s now, but she... It's not... it's not how it'll go for me, all right?"

The words come rushing out of Blaine's mouth so fast Kurt barely has the time to process any of it, but he nods slowly, shaking a little and taking Blaine's hand because he needs something to hold on to right now. Rationally Blaine's words make sense, he knows, but the way he had once again immediately jumped to the worst conclusion unsettles him. If this is how he'll react every time something like this happens...

"See," Blaine starts again, sounding a little upset, "I shouldn't hav-"

"No!" Kurt interrupts him, looking back up with wide eyes, because even if he doesn't know what to do with the whirlwind of feelings that's currently coursing through him, he doesn't regret for even a second his decision of asking Blaine what had happened. "No - no, this is good. I mean, it's not... but it's good. We... talk? I... I ask, and you talk, and I don't... I don't  _assume_. Things."

Blaine turns his hands so that he's holding Kurt's now, and he squeezes softly, looking up at Kurt with a doubtful look on his face.

"You know you don't have to do this, right?" he says, but Kurt shakes his head vehemently.

"I do," he says determinedly. "I want to. I _need_ to."

He wants to say more but the words escape him, and it's upsetting him almost more than what they're talking about because words have always been his strength. But all he has now are feelings, swirling and burning and confusing because how can he be scared and relieved and curious and angry all at the same time?

He's glad when Blaine doesn't press the subject and gives him some time to order his thoughts. It's not quite right, he thinks, since really he should be the one comforting Blaine, but it's kinda hard to do so when he's not even sure how Blaine feels about it all.

"Are you... scared?" he finally dares to ask the question. He doesn't elaborate, but Blaine seems to understand what he means nonetheless.

"Sometimes." It comes out a lot calmer than Kurt had expected, but from the way Blaine has started fiddling with his fingers in his lap, Kurt can see he is at least a little ill at ease.

"As I said - things are different for me. I was on meds practically from day one, there's no reason why I would..." Blaine lets the words trail, apparently just as reluctant to say it out loud as Kurt was. "I should have a normal life. I mean... you never know, of course. There's always a risk of resistance. And the meds... they work, but nobody knows what they will do in the long term. A bit like what might be happening with my kidneys now."

He takes a deep breath, as if he has to force the words to come out - and he probably does.

"I'm not so much afraid of dying as I am that I'll get actually sick," he says. "I mean, everybody dies. It's just the  _how_ that's... scary."

Kurt nods, because strange as it sounds, this he understands. It's not so different from his own fear, after all - he doesn't think anybody would get excited at the prospect of developing Parkinson's, or Alzheimer's, or any of the other diseases of old age that caused a person to wither away slowly. Still, the fear has to be more real, more tangible for Blaine - between his daily dose of pills and the regular doctor visits, he hardly has the luxury to forget about it all. It makes Kurt realize once more how lucky he is, how selfish he's been by letting Blaine deal with all of this by himself, and even what Blaine had meant when he'd claimed he didn't want to burden Kurt with all the details. It hardly even matters whether or not they'll be able to make things work romantically - Blaine is his best friend, and Kurt should be there to support him. But for that to happen he needs to not only learn how to deal with the whole HIV thing himself, but also to understand how  _Blaine_ sees things - because he can't be there for Blaine if he doesn't know what Blaine is struggling with.

And suddenly, Kurt knows exactly what he needs to do, and there's not a shred of doubt in his voice when he looks up at Blaine.

"I want to go to the support group with you."

-o0o-

"Hey dude, how's it going?"

_"Fine, fine. Got a B+ on that report on inclusion I told you about, so at least I got rid of that."_

"Awesome! So, what's up? Will I see you Thursday?"

_"That's eh... that's actually why I'm calling. I really don't like asking you this but... could you... could you maybe skip this week?"_

"Is he coming?"

_"Yeah. Yeah, he is."_

"Really? Blaine, that's so great! I can skip the week, no problem."

_"Sure? Cause I don't... I mean, I'd understand if you don't... it's just, I don't know how he'd react to you being there and-"_

"...it's gonna be a lot to take in already. No problem, man, I get it - I know he's not my biggest fan."

_"I'll make it up to you, promise."_

"I'll remember that. Have fun Thursday, let me know how it went."

_"Will do. See you."_

"Bye."

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those who had trouble understanding - the last scene is a phone call between Brad and Blaine.


	13. Chapter 12

The community center is only a few blocks away from their home, but Kurt isn't surprised he's never noticed it before: tucked away between a coffee shop and a bakery store, it's a narrow, run-down building that's well past its prime and looks about as inviting as a sewer. The inside is only marginally better, with poorly lit hallways and posters and announcements for current and past events plastered all over the walls - as it seems they just missed out on a spaghetti fundraiser the night before. Down the hall someone is playing the violin but hey turn to the opposite direction, until Blaine stops about halfway through and steps back to hold the door, inviting Kurt into what looks like a small classroom. There's a blackboard on one side of the walls, but the desks have been pushed aside for the occasion, leaving only a circle of chairs in the middle.

"You can grab a coffee, if you like," Blaine tells him, gently directing him to one of the tables where a percolator and some nondescript white coffee mugs wait, "I need to talk to Mark first."

Kurt nods, and he's just poured himself a cup when he feels someone coming up behind him.

"Well hello there, gorgeous," a male voice drawls, and Kurt spins around to find a small, emaciated man grinning at him. The lines and grooves decorating his face seem to be due to hardship and neglect rather than old age, but still his grey hair is long, greasy, and messy, and the smell that hits Kurt's nostrils definitely does not originate from a bottle. And although Kurt can see his clothes must have been of decent quality once, they look worn-out and flea-bitten, hanging loosely around his frame.

"Hi," he says, plastering a smile on his face in an attempt to hide his discomfort. "I'm Kurt."

He holds out his hand -let it never be said that Kurt Hummel is impolite- and the other man stares at it for a while before he takes it.

"Kurt, heh?" he says, looking Kurt up and down, his face splitting in a wide grin as if he's come to some sort of realization. "George."

It takes a few seconds for Kurt to place the name, but his stomach clenches when it finally hits him: this must be the man Blaine had been talking about last week.

"M-my condolences," he stammers, suddenly ill at ease, because what are you supposed to say to a man who's lost his wife to the same infection he's suffering from? "I'm- so, so sorry for your loss."

For a second, George seems surprised Kurt even knows about his wife's passing, but then he shrugs.

"Shit happens, kid," he says easily, although Kurt can see his eyes start to shine. "We held on to each other for as long as we could. That's all you can do, you know. But let's not talk about that - you're way too pretty to be thinking about sad things."

He winks at Kurt mischievously, and Kurt heaves a sigh of relief when Blaine chooses that moment to join them.

"Everything alright?" Blaine asks, no doubt picking up on the sudden unspoken tension between Kurt and the other man and curling his arm protectively around Kurt's waist.

"Oh absolutely," George grins, so broadly Kurt can see a large portion of his teeth are missing. "Your boy here was just showing me his beautiful lapel pin."

He points at the hippo head attached to Kurt's vest, and Blaine smiles, pulling Kurt in just a little tighter.

"Well, you can talk fashion later if you want, but I'd like to introduce Kurt to some people first, if that's all right with you?"

George makes a half bow, waving his arm to indicate Blaine is free to take Kurt, and Kurt happily lets himself be steered away.

"He didn't try to hit on you, did he?" Blaine asks Kurt as soon as they are out of earshot, a note of concern in his voice even though he's still smiling. "George is a good guy, but he isn't always the most appropriate conversational partner, I'm afraid."

"No, I-eh... I expressed my condolences about his wife's passing," Kurt says uneasily. "He... he didn't seem too upset, though, even if he didn't look like he'd bothered to shower since the wake."

"Yes, well, he cared a lot for her, but their marriage was more about societal pressure than about love," Blaine explains. "And George has his own set of rules when it comes to personal hygiene, unfortunately. We sometimes make him shower here, but there's only so much we can do, really."

Kurt sends him a puzzled look, not sure what he means, but before he can ask Blaine lets go of him, crying out an enthusiastic ' _Jacky!_ ' as he runs up to a beautiful black-haired woman who's just entered the room, a baby carrier on her arm.

"It's so good to see you! How have you been? Everything alright?"

It's fortunate that Blaine is quite a bit smaller than the woman he's run up to, Kurt thinks, because otherwise the force with which he almost tackles her might have made her topple over. 'Jacky' seems to be unperturbed by Blaine's enthusiasm, though, and they immediately start an animated conversation. And while Kurt's not sure whether he's allowed to intrude, one look at George behind him is all he needs to move to Blaine's side.

"Kurt!" As soon as Blaine feels Kurt appear next to him, he snakes his hand around Kurt's waist, gently pushing him forward. "Kurt, I'd like you to meet Jacqueline. Jacqueline, this is Kurt."

Jacqueline extends her hand towards Kurt and Kurt takes it, returning her smile.

"Nice to meet you, Kurt," she says, looking him up and down in much the same way George had done only minutes earlier. There seems to be an exchange of glances between her and Blaine, but it's over so quickly Kurt can't be sure.

"Can I take her?" Blaine asks, gesturing towards the carrier. The baby girl looks up at them with wide, open eyes, and Kurt finds himself hoping fervently that Jacqueline is here to support someone else, just as he is. Because if she's positive, her newborn daughter must be too, and even though he would never want to deny anyone the right to have a child, the idea that the little girl could already carry the burden of a positive HIV status before she has even had the chance to grow up, breaks his heart.

"Hey there, princess," Blaine coos as he gently picks up the baby and cradles her in his arms. "How are you doing today?"

He plays with her hands for a bit before he turns back to Jacqueline.

"She's beautiful, really. If you ever need a babysitter I'll be glad to volunteer - I'm sure Kurt wouldn't mind."

Kurt himself is not so sure, but Blaine is beaming and he's not about to say no to someone he's only just met.

"You're the sweetest, Blaine, and I'll definitely remember that," Jacqueline says, smiling. "But for now we're fine, aren't we, little miss smellypants?"

They continue to exchange little pleasantries, once in a while interrupted by someone else wanting to welcome Jacqueline back, until they hear someone clapping behind them.

"All right, people, let's get started!"

After Jacqueline takes her daughter back over from Blaine, they move to the center of the room. It takes a few moments for everyone to settle down -quite some more people have come in since Blaine and Kurt arrived-, but soon enough the calm in the room returns. There's a clear majority of men, and Kurt's feels a pang of guilt at his own prejudice when he notes with surprise most of them don't seem to be gay. What does put him off, though, is the amount of color in the room - almost a third of the attendees are Black, and apart from himself there's only two other Whites. As multicultural as he knows New York is, the proportions seem off, and he makes a mental note to ask Blaine about it later.

"Good evening, everyone," a middle aged man starts, smiling broadly, "it seems we're quite a group today. One or two new faces here and there too, so I suggest we start with a round of names - but first of all I'd like to welcome Jacqueline back!"

There's an enthusiastic applause and some hooting, and Jacqueline accepts it with a small wave of her hand and a bashful smile Kurt hadn't thought she had in her.

"How are you two doing, Jacky?"

"Fine, fine," Jacqueline says, "I was out of the hospital in two days. Emily was a bit underweight, but she's quickly catching up, and her last two tests have come back negative, so that's a start. She's still on meds, but if the third is negative she won't have to take those anymore either, and then hopefully she'll start sleeping through the night."

She crosses her fingers as she smiles around the circle, and Kurt's almost tempted to return the gesture for how hopeful she sounds - mainly though he is just relieved that, somehow, the little girl seems to be spared of HIV.

"I'm so happy to hear that!" their apparent group leader says. "Now, how about we go round the circle first? I'll start. Hello everybody, my name is Mark, and I've been positive for seventeen years."

Mark gestures with his hand to the man sitting on his right, and one by one, everybody gets introduced.

"Hi everyone, my name is Andy, and I'm on my third week of PEP," says a young man shyly. With his round, beardless cheeks and his old-fashioned bowl cut he looks every bit the small-town-boy-recently-arrived-in-the-big-city that he probably is and Kurt doesn't need to think hard to imagine how he came to be in this situation, feeling his heart go out to the boy.

"Hi, I'm Monique," a heavy woman says in a low voice, "and I've been positive for a little over one year now."

Little Emily chooses this moment to voice her dissatisfaction with having been woken up, kicking her arms and legs and shaking her head wildly when the finger her mother presses against her lips turns out not to be producing any milk. It doesn't take long before Jacqueline stands up, taking her handbag and her daughter as she silently mouths to Mark that she's going to find the kitchen to heat up Emily's bottle. Kurt watches them go, and any thought he might have had about how breastfeeding would be so much healthier immediately go out through the window when he realizes that, in this case, breastfeeding was definitely not the better option.

He's sure he's missed a few introductions, because by the time he tunes back in, they've gone almost around the circle.

"Hello, I'm George. I've been HIV positive for probably half my life and was diagnosed with AIDS six months ago."

"Hey everybody. My name is Blaine and I've been positive for four years."

There's a silence, and suddenly Kurt realizes that it's his turn to introduce himself.

"Oh! N-no," he stammers. "No, I'm not- I mean... I'm just- I'm- Kurt," he finally sighs, cutting off his own ramble. "I'm Kurt. And I'm just... I'm here with Blaine."

If George and Jacqueline hadn't given it away yet, the amount of nodding he sees in reaction to his introduction leaves him no doubt: most all of them know who he is. Some of them even wink at Blaine or give him a small thumbs up, and it leaves Kurt shifting uncomfortably on his chair. Silly as it is, he's never given the fact that Blaine might have talked about  _him_ here any thought, and the idea is strangely unsettling, not in the least because he has no idea what exactly Blaine has told them and how much they know about what happened between them.

"All right," Mark interrupts his thoughts. "Is there anyone who wants to start today?"

There's a moment of silence before one of the younger men -Alex, if Kurt remembers correctly- lifts his hand, and Mark nods at him to indicate he has the floor. Alex smiles back a little bashfully, ducking his head to hide his blush when he starts talking.

"I met someone," he says quietly, and his cheeks turn an even deeper shade of red when the people around the circle start wooting and wolf whistling.

"That's really great, Alex," Mark smiles at him, looking genuinely excited. "You could bring her sometime, if you want."

But Alex shakes his head, biting his lip.

"I- I haven't actually asked her out yet," he says, suddenly sounding a lot more insecure. He doesn't really elaborate much further, and when the silence stretches out a little too long, Mark speaks up again.

"Why not?"

"Because she doesn't know. About... this..." Alex makes a wide circular movement with his arm, gesturing to all of them. "And I'm not sure if she would say yes if- if she did."

A number of people in the circle nod in understanding, and Kurt feels his stomach churn, because for a moment the image of Alex blurs and morphs into another - his skin a few shades lighter, his eyebrows a little thicker, his hair equally black and curly but just a little more gelled back, and he wonders if Blaine had been in Alex' position once, too, if he'd told the group about Kurt and asked advice on whether or how to tell him about what was going on with him.

He chances a glance at Blaine who's sitting cross-legged on his chair, and he's not sure why he's surprised when he takes the floor.

"What's her name?" Blaine asks, and the simple question seems to relax Alex a little, his blush returning to his cheeks as he thinks of the girl that has caught his eye.

"Victoria," he says, a little dreamily. "Her name is Victoria."

"So where did you meet her?"

"At my house," Alex replies smiling, finally looking up. "My mum has this reading club and last weekend they were coming to our house, and Victoria- well, her mum, really, is in the club too and Victoria tagged along for once and she... she is so beautiful. And nice. You have all these pretty girls who swear in every sentence and think they have to dress like they're extras in some rapper's music video but she's not like that, she's her own person. And she's smart, too, she works at-"

He cuts himself off, suddenly aware of the fact that he has started rambling, and he ducks his head again, hands fumbling in his lap.

"Then if she's smart, don't you think she'll still accept you if you tell her?" Blaine asks, but the panic in Alex' eyes makes it clear he doesn't agree in the slightest.

"But she could tell my mom!" he says, his voice suddenly higher pitched."Or my boss! I can't afford to lose my job, Blaine, I really can't."

"Or she could be understanding and not tell a soul if you ask her to," Blaine counters. "Why are you so sure she'll reject you?"

"Because it's what  _I_ would've done, isn't it?" Alex exasperates. "If someone had said to me they were positive I would've run the other way and told everyone to make sure they wouldn't be able to do more harm."

"Well, then it's a good thing you want to ask  _Victoria_ out, not your old self, isn't it?" Blaine smiles, tilting his head, but Alex doesn't seem to get the joke.

"I just want her to give me a chance," he says unhappily, rubbing his palms together. "I'm sure if I could get her to give me a chance she would see it's not important."

"Then wait until the second date to tell her," Blaine says simply. "Or the third. Or fourth. It doesn't have to be the first topic of conversation."

But Alex shakes his head, unconvinced.

"But then won't she be mad with me for not telling her first, for leading her on?" he asks. The look he sends Blaine is pleading, almost as if he's begging him to debunk his fear, to tell him he's wrong.

"Don't you think that, if she's understanding, it won't matter when you tell her?" Blaine asks, scooting a little further on his chair. "If she is the kind of person that would still go on a date with you after you tell her, then she will also understand if you wait a little."

"But what if she  _doesn't_ understand?" Alex asks again, a little more desperate now. "What if she tells everyone and she hates me and she doesn't want to see me ever again?"

"What if at this very moment she's asking the same questions to her friends because she's positive too?" Blaine counters again. "What if in five years you find she really liked you too but you were too scared to find out?"

He unfolds his legs, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees, to get just a little closer to Alex.

"There's no right way to do this, Alex," he says softly. "So you need to do it the way you feel most comfortable with. If you don't want to risk your heart being broken before you're sure she'll accept you, then tell her before you ask her out. If you want to get to know her a little better first, then tell her later."

Blaine keeps talking, but Kurt tunes him out, looking down at his hands instead because the conversation is starting to hit a little too close to home. He can feel and sometimes even see people's eyes drifting back at Blaine and him from time to time, their looks too knowing to be coincidental. Blaine seems unfazed, and at first Kurt suspects he just hasn't noticed how they're the center of attention now. But when he glances over at him and automatically tunes back in on the conversation, he realizes Blaine is very much aware of the looks and stares.

"Don't make the same mistake I did," he tells Alex, "don't wait until it's too late. I know it's scary and frightening and it's gonna suck if she turns you down. But it's gonna suck so much harder if she finds out later - for both of you. I can't guarantee that she'll take it well, but I can promise you she'll take it badly if you wait too long to tell her. That doesn't mean you have to tell her first thing in the morning - you can take a little more time for yourself, try to figure out how she might feel about it, if you can trust her not to tell your mother or your boss. It's your call, Alex, but the only person who has the answer is Victoria. And the only thing you can do is be honest, to yourself, and to her, and hope for the best."

Blaine doesn't look at Kurt once, keeps his attention focused on Alex the whole time, but Kurt still feels Blaine's words are directed at him too, as if he's offering some kind of apology in disguise, and he wonders if that's the reason Blaine chose to take over the conversation from Mark.

It soon becomes clear it's not.

Because after the conversation with Alex has ended, Blaine spends almost twenty minutes convincing the White woman -Jo-Anne- to start up therapy, and another five lecturing a young guy after he admits he had unprotected sex the weekend before. Not once does he bring up the issue with his kidneys, and the few times that he does mention something more personal it's as an example or as an illustration of the point he's trying to make.

And Kurt watches with growing wonder as Blaine talks, calm and collected, but still empathic and compassionate. It reminds him of a Blaine he hasn't seen in a long time, not since they had just met, when Blaine had spent hours talking to him, encouraging him to stand up for himself, assuring him that there was nothing wrong with who he was, that just because he wasn't respected or particularly popular didn't mean he didn't deserve to be. Then, like now, Blaine had appeared confident, put-together, not a trace of the doubts and insecurities Kurt had only recently learned he had been struggling with at the time, his attention fully focused on the person and the problem in front of him. But he is different now than he had been then - two years of Psychology courses and even longer of fighting his own battles have made him stronger, not limited to little catch phrases to try to get his message across.

It makes that the whole night couldn't have been further from what Kurt had expected.

Because what he had expected was to see a more vulnerable Blaine, a Blaine who would talk about his struggles in a way he couldn't with Kurt. He had expected a Blaine who would ask advice, a Blaine in need of support, but instead he gets a confident, almost  _happy_  Blaine, a Blaine who's comfortable in his skin, virus and all, and who's determined to help other people find that same comfort. And while the thought that maybe Blaine isn't talking about himself this time because Kurt is there crosses his mind, Kurt knows instinctively it's not true. It's the way Blaine talks, the easiness with which he takes on the mentor role; the way, also, the others approach Blaine, _ask_  him for advice, listen to him.

And slowly the pieces in Kurt's mind fall together: the unexpected but resolute choice for Psychology, the internship applications, the late Thursday nights when Blaine would come home from the support group exhausted, unwilling to talk, contemplative and withdrawn. Not because he had been talking about his own problems for too long, but because he had been shouldering others'. Because that was why Blaine was here: not for himself, but for  _them_.

.

After the session draws to a close, and Blaine spends another five minutes quietly talking to Alex a little away from the others, slipping him a piece of paper Kurt is sure contains Blaine's number, they say their goodbyes and start the short walk home.

"So," Blaine asks slowly as they exit the building and turn left, clearly fighting to keep his voice level, "are you okay? I know it was a little heavy today with Alex, I'm sorry, I didn't kn-"

"It's okay," Kurt interrupts him, putting his hand on Blaine's arm. "I mean, yes, it was heavy but... I'm glad I came."

"You are?" Blaine asks, unsure and still just a little bit apprehensive, and Kurt nods.

"I am. It was... _interesting_ \- seeing you in your natural habitat."

He chuckles when Blaine shoots him a surprised look, but soon enough -and much to his relief- he sees the corners of Blaine's mouth curl up in a smile, and Kurt slips his arm through Blaine's.

"They seemed like a nice group of people."

"They are," Blaine says, and Kurt can hear the warmth in his voice. "There's a lot of people coming and going, of course, but we have this little core group - myself and Mark and George and Jacqueline and B-"

He cuts himself off before he can finish his sentence and Kurt can feel how he tenses up, glancing at Kurt uncomfortably. It's odd, after how easygoing and open Blaine had been all night, but Kurt immediately understands why when Blaine finally continues.

"... and Brad," he says warily, eyeing Kurt carefully. "Brad usually comes too."

Even just the mention of the name sends a painful jolt through Kurt's stomach, and he silently thanks whatever deity he doesn't believe in for making Brad chose this week to get sick, or be on holidays, or to just simply not feeling like coming.

"I asked him not to come, today."

Oh, well... that was a possibility too, of course.

Without even looking Kurt can almost  _feel_  Blaine's eyes trained on him, as if he's scared that Kurt's going to explode on him for arranging this without asking him first, but the truth is that Kurt is actually almost grateful. Blaine's bizarre friendship with the guy still is a mystery to him, one that he isn't sure he will ever fully understand, and while he knows Blaine meets up with him regularly -and really he should have guessed Brad was going to the group too, seeing how he and Blaine often meet up for dinner on Thursday nights-, he usually tries to keep Brad out of their conversations and out of his mind. As far as he's concerned, the less he sees of Brad the better, and if Blaine anticipates that by making sure they don't accidentally run into each other, he, for one, is not going to complain.

"Thank you," he says, tugging Blaine in just a little closer, but when Blaine looks up at him Kurt knows he understands he's not just thanking him for asking Brad to stay away - he's thanking him for telling Kurt about it, too.

They continue walking in the relative silence of New York at 11pm on a Thursday night, the ever-present rumble of traffic a reassurance that the city is still alive. It's cold, even for mid-November, but all Kurt can think about is Blaine, and how different he'd been tonight.

"This is why you were so adamant about doing Psychology, isn't it?" he finally says, asking the question that has been nagging at him ever since they left the community center. "This is why you only applied for internships with HIV/AIDS organizations."

For a few long seconds Blaine doesn't respond, but then he nods, even though he keeps looking straight ahead.

"I felt like I had to," he says. "It's... I had such a hard time. I  _gave myself_ such a hard time. And I just... I don't want anyone else to have to go through all that the way I did. I don't want them to make the same mistakes."

It sounds like another off-hand apology, another way in which Blaine is trying to make things right again, if not for Kurt then at least for himself. Without thinking Kurt slips his hand into Blaine's pocket, grasping his hand and causing Blaine to look at him in surprise, but when Kurt smiles at him he's relieved to see it returned.

"I just want to help people," Blaine continues, a little more confidently, "make a difference. Mark's a good guy, and he's doing a great job, but he doesn't always have the right words. And most of those people simply can't afford a therapist - the support group is the only thing they've got."

"So you always end up taking over Mark's role, then?" Kurt asks. It's a serious question, but he can't help it sounding a little cheeky. Blaine seems to pick up on it too, because he promptly starts laughing.

"Sometimes," he says, grinning, and he rolls his eyes a little when Kurt arches an eyebrow. "Ok, yes - often."

"Then why aren't you group leader?"

"They asked me," Blaine admits hesitantly after a few seconds, although there's a certain sense of pride in his voice, "a couple of weeks back. Mark's been doing it for over 10 years, he kind of wants to take a break. And I already fill in for him sometimes, when he can't make it. But it's just... it's not just being there every week - it's booking the room and administration and we do this fundraiser every year and I don't... I don't know if I have the time for that."

"It would look good on your resume, though," Kurt says, and to his surprise he can feel Blaine stiffen a little next to him. "I mean... if that's the direction you want to go with your degree anyway..."

For a while, they continue in silence, and just as Kurt starts wondering if he said something wrong Blaine starts talking again.

"I don't... I don't want people to look at my CV and see that I'm positive," he says a little feebly, and Kurt frowns as he turns his head to look at him.

"But you're doing those internships," he says, not quite understanding.

"Anybody could do an internship with an AIDS organization," Blaine counters. "There's a billion reasons you would want to go there, or just end up there. But the group..." Blaine heaves a breath. "You don't lead an HIV/AIDS support group without being positive yourself."

"Why are you hiding?"

Kurt blurts out the words, but even as he says them he finds that they holds more truth than he expected them to.

"You were so confident in there," he says, stopping them in the middle of the sidewalk and turning Blaine by his arm to face him. "You were so strong - like you knew who you were and you weren't ashamed of it: you used it for the better. I've never seen you like that before, not even when you're performing. And then you come out here and you hide it all away, like you don't want people to know the real you."

"Because they don't  _want_ to know the real me, Kurt," Blaine says with a sad, resigned smile, shaking his head. "The real me is scary and contagious - it would just make them feel uncomfortable."

He turns around to continue walking but Kurt pulls him back. He needs to stop him, because with every step they take away from the community center Blaine seems to lose a little more of himself. Kurt had never given it any thought before, but seeing the way Blaine had acted in group there had been something extra in his smile, just a little more fire in his speech, a little more sincerity in his support - as if the Blaine he'd come to know for the past three years is just a black-and-white version, and now for the first time he'd gotten a glimpse of just who Blaine could be if he would allow himself to show all his colors.

"So educate them," he insists. "Show them they shouldn't be uncomfortable, that there's nothing to be scared about."

It's enough to make Blaine stop to look at him, the look in his eyes equal parts confusion and surprise, and Kurt forces himself to continue talking, because he's not sure if he'll ever have the courage to say this again, to really believe it as he does in this moment.

"You're hiding the best part of you, Blaine. You were sixteen and you made a mistake, but you managed to overcome it as good as you could, and now you haven't even graduated yet and you're already helping other people. Shouldn't that be something to be proud of instead of something to hide away? Shouldn't that be something that people should _see_?"

"I think I've made more than one mistake," Blaine mumbles, so soft Kurt almost doesn't hear, and Kurt steps forward, taking Blaine's other hand as well.

"We all have," he says gently, although the look in his eyes doesn't leave room for protest. "Blaine... those people in the group... they rely on you. Even just being there once it's obvious to me just how much you help them, every week. But  _we_  need help too, Blaine. Me, and Mercedes, and everyone else on the outside. Because it's great that you're there for  _them_  every week, but when they go home to their family and their friends and the girl they fancy, they go back to the prejudice and the misunderstanding too. I would know - I  _was_  that friend. I sometimes still am. And where does that leave them? So why don't you stand up? Why don't you tell  _us_ , the way you tell them, that it's ok?"

He's slightly out of breath when he finishes, looking down at Blaine pleadingly only to see him stare back at Kurt, taken aback and surprised, and Kurt's not even sure whether he managed to get his point across - that Blaine could think bigger, that he could do more not despite the fact that he made mistakes, but because of it.

Blaine doesn't reply, letting go of their hands instead, cupping Kurt's cheek and softly caressing it. There's a shimmer in his eye that looks vaguely like pride but could be affection too -and maybe it's both- and for a fleeting second Kurt is convinced Blaine's going to kiss him. But just like that the moment is gone, and Blaine drops his hand again.

"Come on," he says, wrapping his arm around Kurt. "Let's go home."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two things, important each for their own reasons, for those of you who like facts, anyone else will probably want to skip this.  
> 1\. My description of the group in terms of race, sexuality, and gender, is based on the 2009 New York State HIV/AIDS Surveillance Annual Report. And yes, I am aware that those numbers are three years old, but it's the most recent data I could find. As such, the composition of the group is a reflection of the actual composition of the population of HIV/AIDS cases (three years ago) which means that yes, Kurt is absolutely right in thinking that the proportions are off (70+% of NY population is White vs. only 20% of HIV/AIDS cases). There's more information on my Tumblr [](http://letmegiveyoumynumbah.tumblr.com/tdiom>here</a>%20for%20those%20interested%20-%20if%20you%20can't%20find%20it%20or%20need%20help%20interpreting%20the%20data,%20shoot%20me%20an%20ask%20or%20a%20PM%20and%20I'll%20be%20happy%20to%20help.%0A2.%20As%20you%20may%20or%20may%20not%20have%20noticed,%20this%20fic%20is%20also%20a%20not-so-subtle%20attempt%20at%20providing%20some%20education%20around%20HIV/AIDS.%20I%20try%20to%20integrate%20the%20facts%20and%20figures%20as%20non-disruptively%20as%20possible,%20but%20I%20would%20still%20like%20to%20clarify%20a%20few%20things:%20firstly,%20in%20the%2080s/90s,%20not%20keeping%20pets%20was%20indeed%20a%20guideline%20for%20HIV/AIDS%20patients%20\(as%20was,%20for%20example,%20keeping%20your%20nails%20short%20and%20clean\),%20but%20due%20to%20medical%20advances%20this%20is%20now%20obsolete;%20secondly,%20given%20proper%20medical%20care,%20HIV%20positive%20women%20can%20significantly%20reduce%20the%20risk%20of%20passing%20HIV%20to%20their%20infant%20during%20pregnancy,%20labor,%20and%20delivery,%20to%20the%20extent%20that%20there%20is%20no%20\(HIV-related\)%20reason%20for%20them%20to%20consider%20not%20having%20children.%20Although,%20naturally,%20breastfeeding%20is%20not-done.)


	14. Chapter 13

Blaine loves Fridays. He has no classes on Friday, and thus Fridays are like Sundays, only better, because while Sundays mean the end of the weekend, Fridays are only the start.

And today, this Friday, as he slowly becomes aware of his surroundings, Blaine thinks it might possibly be one of the best Fridays he has ever woken up to. He can hear the distant drone of the traffic on the street below, can almost feel the soft glow of the sunlight falling through the window, slowly creeping over his covers to the rhythm of his alarm clock on the bedside table and he allows himself to revel in the moment, enjoying the quiet serenity of it as he keeps his eyes closed for just a little longer and lets his thoughts drift to the night before.

He had meant it, all those weeks back, when he'd said that Kurt was welcome to come along to group if he wanted to, but that didn't mean it hadn't made him nervous. Because group was _his_ , a small bubble of safety he built for himself - it was the one place where he'd never tried to be someone he wasn't. Some of the people there knew him better than he even knew himself -he'd spent  _hours_  talking to Jacky after what happened with Kurt- and even though he rarely felt the need to talk about himself anymore, the simple knowledge that he _could_ was strangely comforting. Sharing that with Kurt -and Kurt  _allowing_ Blaine to share it with him- had been both exciting and nerve wrecking. But when the first person to come up to Kurt had been George, and when after that Alex had brought up Victoria, Blaine's inner balance had quickly tipped from enthusiastic bouncing towards nail biting and hair pulling and he'd mentally prepared himself for Kurt running off, everything being too much, too soon.

But Kurt had stayed. He hadn't said a word, had visibly paled on one or two occasions, but he had stayed. And then when they had walked home...

It had been perfect. Even if Blaine had absolutely no intention of actually taking over group, let alone start sharing his story with the world -telling Kurt had been stressful enough, thankyouverymuch-, just the fact that Kurt, of all people, had told him not to hide, had told him that he was no one to be afraid of...

He opens his eyes, wide awake now, staring at the ceiling for a couple of seconds more before he almost literally jumps out of bed. If it had been up to him he would've kissed the hell out of Kurt the night before, but since that was kind of out of his hands, he'd just have to go for the next best thing: breakfast in bed.

He silently pads out of his room and into the kitchen, happy to see the door to Kurt's room is still closed, and starts taking out all the ingredients he'll need. Kurt has the upper hand in almost everything cooking-related, but there is one thing even he won't deny: Blaine makes killer crepes.

It doesn't take him long to make the batter, and when it's ready he covers the bowl with a towel to let it rest while he goes to take a shower. He's in and out in minutes, throwing on a pair of sweats and his old Dalton gym shirt before he walks back into the living room, toweling his hair and- stops.

There, in the kitchen in front of him, is Kurt, standing behind the stove, his back towards Blaine. His very muscular, very pale, but above all very  _naked_  back, and Blaine swallows thickly, promising himself he will never again make fun of Kurt and Nick's weekly fitness date. Because it might have been a long time since he's seen Kurt shirtless, but he sure as hell would've remembered his back looking like  _that_.

He's not sure exactly how long he ends up standing there, silently watching Kurt move around the kitchen, pajama pants low on his hips, but when he finally manages to jolt himself out of his stupor there's three crepes already waiting for him and a fourth one on its way.

"Good morning," he says, getting up on his toes behind Kurt to press a kiss against his cheek over his shoulder, smiling a little when Kurt drops the shoulder and turns his head to make it just a little easier on him. He moves beside Kurt, trying his hardest not to accidentally touch him -this is the first time in months Kurt has left his room in anything less than three full-fledged layers and Blaine is not planning on losing that privilege just because he can't keep his hands to himself- but still he can't resist pushing Kurt aside with a playful shove of his hips. "Get out of the way, this was supposed to be my treat."

"And good morning to you too," Kurt grins, although he allows Blaine to take the pan out of his hands, not even pretending to want to be in charge. "You do know I'm perfectly capable of making my own breakfast, right?"

"Certainly," Blaine concedes with a cock of his head, "but I have a magic swirl that makes my breakfast just a  _little_  better."

He winks and Kurt laughs obligingly, lifting himself up on the counter.

"Well, I'm certainly not complaining," he says as he drags his finger through the pancake batter -Blaine's reprimanding swat comes just a moment too late-, "although to be honest I thought you would be out by now instead of making luxurious crepe breakfasts for your flatmate."

Blaine shoots Kurt a questioning look, trying not to pay attention -or at least not too much- to the way Kurt sucks the batter off his finger.

"How do you mean?"

"You haven't looked outside yet?" Kurt asks in surprise, and Blaine squints apprehensively.

"Not really..."

Kurt's face instantly splits open in a wide, knowing grin, and he gives a little encouraging jerk with his head towards the window, eyes sparkling and generally looking as if he's in on some kind of secret Blaine isn't yet aware of.

"Go!" he shoos when Blaine doesn't immediately move, and a little cautiously Blaine leaves his position behind the stove, unable to shake the feeling that this is some kind of ploy, although whose ploy and what the goal of it could be isn't very clear. But when he makes it to the living room window and looks outside, he immediately understands.

It's not much, just a couple of inches, but it's there - a thin layer covering window sills and cars, and when he spins around he knows he's probably sporting the biggest grin in human history.

"It snowed!"

"It snowed," Kurt confirms from where he's still sitting on the counter, laughing at Blaine's enthusiasm.

"Oh my god it snowed!" Blaine can hardly keep himself from bouncing up and down as he runs back to the kitchen. If there's one thing he misses in New York it's the glistening white carpet that invariably covered Ohio during winter time. "It snowed! We gotta go to Central Park - please tell me we will go - please please  _please_? I'll make you crêpes for breakfast?"

He looks up at Kurt with big eyes as he wiggles himself in between his knees, his hands folded against each other in a pleading gesture, but Kurt just lifts his eyebrows in amusement.

"I'm pretty sure you were going to make us breakfast anyway," he says, "with or without a walk in Central Park."

"Yes... but I'll make it with extra special care if we get to go?" Blaine tries again, ending his sentence about an octave higher than would be strictly necessary, and Kurt shakes his head.

"I gotta be at Mercedes' at noon," he says, "make up for our lost shopping date from last weekend, remember?"

"But that's three hours from now!" Blaine exclaims. "There's plenty of time to go for a walk! Please please pretty please with a snowman on top?" He lifts his folded hands, tilting his head and making what he hopes are his best puppy eyes, and when he sees Kurt roll his eyes in mock desperation he knows he's won.

"Come on!" he says brightly, patting the sides of Kurt's thighs, "we gotta eat! And get dressed! And get to Central Park!"

.

The whole eating-and-getting-dressed-and-getting-to-Central-Park thing turns out to take just a little longer than Blaine would have liked, and it's well past ten by the time they finally emerge from the subway on the corner of 59th and 5th. Despite the cold weather there are surprisingly few horse-drawn carriages lined up outside the park, the animals stamping and snorting in the cold november air in an attempt to keep warm, but when they cross the street to enter the park Blaine can't resist to stop for a few seconds, patting one of the horses on the nose.

"You really just can't see an animal without touching it, can you?" Kurt teases, and Blaine flashes him a wide grin.

"They're sweet and cute and fluffy and they deserve attention too," he shrugs easily, too used to Kurt's teasing to be bothered by it, and he stops as they reach the entrance to the park. "So, where do you want to go?"

"Eh,  _you're_  the snow man here," Kurt tells him, holding his hands up as if to ward off any responsibility, " _you_  wanted a snow walk,  _you_  decide where to go. The ice rink, maybe?"

But Blaine scrunches his nose in reply.

"Nah," he says, shaking his head a little. "It's gonna be way too busy there now. How about... the turtle pond?"

The turtle pond is one of the smaller ponds, but it's Blaine's favorite by far - because of the turtles, obviously -although it's unlikely they'll see any this time of year- but mainly because it is one of the quieter areas in the park; it is also about half an hour walk, which means they should be able to make it there and back again in time for Kurt to make it to Mercedes'.

Kurt nods and they turn right, taking one of the smaller roads that lead into the park. It runs right in between the East Drive and 5th Avenue, and so for the first part of their walk they can hear the clacking of horse shoes and the creaking of carriages coming from one side, and the incessant rumble of traffic from the other. But as they make their way further into the park the noise slowly disappears into the background until it's nothing but a distant buzz, and they find themselves walking side-to-side in the relative silence of Central Park on a Friday morning.

They're not talking, not really, instead enjoying the clean crisp air filling their lungs and the crunch of the snow beneath their feet. Unlike the city, where the warmth leaking from apartment buildings and continuous traffic has already caused most of that night's snow to melt away, the park is still covered with a thin carpet of glistening snow, making the yellows and oranges and reds of the last remaining leaves look even brighter than usual. It's one of Blaine's absolute favorite times of the year - that moment where Nature seems to take in a big, deep breath, allows itself to be the best, most beautiful it can be before taking its final bow and retreating backstage to start preparing its next performance.

But as beautiful and wonderful as the park looks today, Blaine is having a hard time fully enjoying it, distracted by the body next to him, so close and yet so unreachable, and he wishes Kurt would curl his arm around Blaine's the way he had done the night before. Instead, they're just walking - the gap between them as wide as their status of friends requires, yet narrow enough for their hands to accidentally brush against each other from time to time, and even through the thick fabric of his gloves he can feel his skin tingle. It sends a jolt through Blaine's stomach each time, and after the third time he just stuffs his hands in his pocket, not sure if he can trust himself not to reach out if it happens again.

They're not the only ones who felt like going for a walk after the first snow fall of this winter, it appears, and Blaine laughs when an overly enthusiastic German Shepherd only just manages not to run him over, hitting him in the back of his knee with the stick he's carrying between his jaws, running ahead until he stops abruptly about 20 or 30 feet in front of them, turning his head left and right in search of his owner.

"Here boy!" Blaine calls out, sinking down on his knees, slapping his hands against his thighs. He can hear Kurt's sigh -' _Impossible.._.'- but he pays it no mind, shooting him a quick smile before he returns his attention back to the dog. "Here - come on, boy, come here!"

The dog looks at him inquisitively, tilting his head a little, but then starts a lazy trot towards Blaine, snuffling at him as soon as he reaches him.

"Here, give that to me," Blaine tells him, taking one end of the stick and tugging at it a little. "I'll throw it out for ya, ok?"

The animal opens its jaws a little, no longer bothering about the stick now that he's got a whole new bundle of foreign smells in front of him, but as soon as Blaine gets up, raising the stick into the air, the dog starts jumping up and down, eager to play another round. It's then that Blaine catches sight of a short, Indian-looking girl who seems to be the owner, and he raises his eyebrows questioningly, silently asking her for permission, and as soon as he sees her smile and nod back at him, he stands up just a little taller, feigning a few throws before he actually launches the stick out on the lawn, laughing at the way the dog leaps at him before starting the chase.

Kurt hasn't waited up for him, his back towards Blaine as he saunters further down the path, and when Blaine spots a snow-covered bench he can't help himself; he runs his hand over the bench, collecting the snow and compressing it into a small, tight ball.

Kurt yelps when the snowball hits him full in the back, instantly spinning around to see who the culprit was, and Blaine's not sure which is more funny: his fury when he initially turns around, or his stupefaction when he sees it's Blaine.

"Blaine Anderson, this jacket is dry-clean  _only_!" he shrieks furiously, but Blaine just laughs -he knows better then to be tricked into believing Kurt's coat is going to need dry cleaning after a brief encounter with a snowball- and he runs past Kurt before turning around.

"Come on, Hummel, think you can win a snowball fight from me?" he shouts walking backwards, his voice equal parts challenge and amusement as he holds his arms open in a mock invite.

Kurt seems to weigh his options for a few moments, squinting and biting his lip, and just as Blaine thinks he's going to let it go he takes off, getting within three feet of Blaine before Blaine even has the time to turn around and start running himself. He's not really worried -despite Kurt's natural kicker talent his aim when throwing things is questionable at best- but it's more fun this way.

No less than three snowballs have flown past him -one a mere two feet from his head- when Blaine hears it - the soft sounds of an accordion tune in 3/4 time. It doesn't take long for him to locate the busker courageous enough to get out in the cold weather: a short, brown-haired man, looking disheveled but for the polished wooden instrument he's holding, and when the idea pops into his head, Blaine knows he has to try.

He stops abruptly, spinning around just in time to catch Kurt who was about to run into him.

"Blaine Anderson, I won-"

"We should dance," Blaine interrupts him, wrapping his arms around Kurt, an amused smile spreading over his face when he sees Kurt's astonishment.

"We-  _what_?"

"We should dance," Blaine repeats, nodding towards the busker, but Kurt tilts his head, squinting at him suspiciously.

"You're just trying to distract me from the snowball fight, are you?" he says accusingly, and Blaine lets his eyes grow wide.

"I have  _no_  idea what you're talking about," he says innocently, but when he tries to lift his arms around Kurt's neck, Kurt pushes them back down.

"Hey-hey! What do you think you're doing?"

"Letting you take lead?" Blaine answers hesitantly, making it sound like a question, and his heart sinks when Kurt shakes his head.

"No-no-no," Kurt says determinedly, making Blaine jump when he secures his arms a little tighter around his waist, wrapping his own around Blaine's neck. "No-no, that's not the way it goes. You ask - you lead."

"But- you're taller!" Blaine protests, but Kurt remains unimpressed.

"You ask, you lead," he repeats before cocking his head and raising his eyebrows. "Although there's very little lead going on here, I must say."

For a few counts, Blaine just stands there, a little baffled. It having been his idea didn't mean he'd thought it would actually  _work_ , but when the busker starts a new song he finally manages to shake himself out of his stupor, and he pulls Kurt in just a little tighter than is probably necessary as they start dancing.

It's not long before he closes his eyes - it's not as if there are that many people out that they could bump into and he's not planning on any big choreography either, simply holding Kurt close as they sway, letting the slow one-two-three count of the music guide them as they twist and turn. But closing his eyes makes him all the more aware of the proximity of Kurt - even with the layers and layers of winter clothing separating them he can feel the warmth of the body pressed up against him, the familiar scent of Kurt's shampoo and conditioner surrounding him, and when he takes in a deep breath he can't help but shudder a little, his stomach twisting when it makes Kurt nuzzle a little closer.

The song ends much too soon -even if Blaine strongly suspects the busker added a little improvisation to the middle part just for their benefit- and they simply stand there for a while, neither of them apparently willing to be the one to step back, until Blaine finally makes himself move, rubbing Kurt's back a few times before he pulls away.

"Thank you," he says - or rather, wants to say, because the words get stuck in his throat the moment he locks eyes with Kurt.

The gray and green and blue of his eyes are barely visible, his pupils dilated as he looks down at Blaine with an expression that seems to hold the middle between bewildered and expectant. His cheeks are flushed pink -because it's cold, Blaine reminds himself, just because it's cold- and his breath comes heavy, in time with Blaine's own, and Blaine can feel his heart beat fast and hard against his chest, so loud he's almost surprised Kurt doesn't seem to hear it. Instead Kurt just keeps looking at him, still with that same expression in his eyes and it's all Blaine can do to just lean forward and kiss him.

"Thank you," he says - _actually_  says this time- as he pulls back from where he pressed his lips against Kurt's forehead, and that's what finally breaks the magic of the moment.

Kurt staggers back, untangling himself from Blaine, glancing down before he takes a deep breath and sends Blaine a bashful smile.

"You're welcome," he says with a nod of his head, voice a little breathy but still firm. "But I-eh... I have to go. Lunch. With- Mercedes."

He's adorable, Blaine thinks, the way he's blushing and stumbling over his words, eyes darting all over the place, and several seconds pass before he realizes that he should probably say something right about now.

"Yeah- yeah, of course," he hurries, "no problem. You- eh, go."

There's an awkward silence in which neither of them seems to know what to say, but then Kurt speaks up.

"Could you- eh- maybe, could you pick up some vegetables for dinner tonight on your way home?" he asks. "If you're not too busy making snowmen all afternoon, of course."

"Of course," Blaine concedes, trying and failing to contain a chuckle. "Though I don't think there's enough snow for a decent snowman. But I will. Pick something up, I mean."

Kurt nods.

"Good," he says. "That's good. Right. I-eh... I'm going now."

But he doesn't go, instead remaining where he is and looking at Blaine as if he wants to say something but isn't sure what or how.

"I'm going," he repeats, and then he  _does_  move, bridging the gap between him and Blaine with a single step, pressing a small peck on Blaine's cheek before he pulls back. "I'll see you tonight," he says, giving Blaine a small wave before he starts walking away.

"See you tonight," Blaine replies softly, although Kurt's already too far away to hear it anymore. The phantom press of Kurt's lips burns on Blaine's cheek, and he lifts his hand involuntarily, the touch of his fingertips sending a shiver down his spine. And it's at that very moment that he catches the eye of the busker, and he feels the blood rush to his cheeks when the man winks at him, making want to run off in embarrassment. He manages to control himself, though, instead reaching into his pockets for some change and throwing it in the open instrument case at the man's feet. And only then does he give in, spinning around on his heels, fully determined to go straight home - until he spots a small, blue baby hat on the ground.

-o0o-

Kurt's early when he emerges from the subway near Mercedes'. He'd left the park and Blaine much sooner than he'd planned, but staying simply hadn't been an option - not with Blaine as close as he was, not after the way they'd danced together.

It's at that moment that his phone buzzes, and he takes it out of his pocket, hoping it's not Mercedes calling off their date again, and frowning a little when he sees it's Blaine. As soon as he opens the message he bursts out laughing though: Blaine's smiling broadly into the camera, holding up his thumb next to a tiny snowman, no more than a foot high, wearing two sticks for arms, a couple of pinecone seeds for mouth, nose and eyes, and a bright blue baby hat on its head.

It instantly brightens his mood - he has no idea whether their dancing has affected Blaine as much as it has him, but if he can still make silly jokes like this, at least it means nothing has changed between them, and Blaine's not angry with him for taking off rather abruptly.

He pockets his phone, taking his time as he walks to Mercedes' apartment, although he doesn't think she will mind if he's early. Mentally he's already planning their day -which shops to go to, where to go for lunch, ...- but as he starts climbing the stairs he thinks that what he's really looking forward to is just to talk to his girl friend. So much has happened this past week -the wake, the group meeting, and now the dancing- and even if he knows Blaine is a sore subject between them, he hopes they'll be able to discuss it a little bit, at least.

He frowns when he arrives at Mercedes' door -usually she leaves it ajar when she knows he's coming, and surely he's not  _that_  early- and the frown only deepens when she doesn't immediately answer the door after he's knocked. He's just about to knock again when the door finally cracks open and Mercedes appears, wearing pajamas and looking appropriately disheveled, obviously straight out of bed.

"Kurt?" she asks, looking him up and down a bit questioningly. "What are you doing here?"

"Taking you shopping?" he says, in the same questioning tone, although he makes sure to add a fair amount of judgment when he returns the once-over. "You know, like we arranged we would when you were feeling sick last week?"

Mercedes' mouth forms a small 'o' in realization, and she's about to reply when another, heavier voice comes from within the room.

"Honey? Who is it? Just send them away already and come back to bed!"

Immediately Mercedes startles and pales, and if Kurt hadn't been sure who the owner of the voice was before, he is now.

"Mercedes?" he hisses. "What the hell is he do-"

"Sssht!" Mercedes cuts him off, quickly stepping out in the hall and carefully closing the door behind her. "It's not what you think, alright?"

Kurt steps back, folding his arms in front of him and sending her a pointed look.

"Then what, pray tell, is it that's going on here?" he spits out venomously. "Because I can only think of so many reasons why  _David_ would be  _in your bed_ , calling you  _honey_."

Mercedes ducks her head guiltily and Kurt lets out a disbelieving gasp.

"It just happened, ok?" Mercedes exasperates before he can say anything. "It was a mistake and it won't happen again, promise. Just... don't tell Sam? Please?"

"He's calling you 'honey' and asking you to go back to bed!" Kurt repeats angrily. "That doesn't sound like something that 'just happened' to me!"

He won't tell Sam -of course he won't tell Sam, that's Mercedes' call to make, not his- but just the fact that she's specifically asking him not to puts him on edge. That, and he remembers Mercedes' doe eyes at the karaoke bar all too well.

"How long has this been going on, 'Cedes?"

He knows he's right when Mercedes looks back down and wraps her arms around herself, and he rolls his eyes, but still he's not nearly prepared for her answer when she whispers, barely audible: "... a month."

"You... what?"

Kurt almost chokes, flailing his arms around in exasperation. "You can't... you haven't... oh dear god just please tell me you're being safe at least?"

"I'm on the pill, Kurt, you know that," Mercedes says a little indignantly, squinting at Kurt, "of course we're  _safe_."

"I'm talking about  _condoms_ , Mercedes!" Kurt hisses, stepping a little closer to her so he doesn't have to talk too loud; he doesn't really want David to listen in on their conversation. But Mercedes shakes her head again, raising an eyebrow.

"David's not  _gay_ ," she says indignantly, "we're not like Blaine or anything."

And just like that, Kurt no longer cares who can or cannot hear them.

"HIV is  _not_ a 'gay' illness!" he explodes. "Did you both have two negative tests three months apart? Do you trust him enough to believe he hasn't had unprotected sex with anyone else? Or did he just  _tell you_ he was clean? You know, this is  _exactly_ what happened to Blaine! And you know David's no stranger to one night stands, you can't take that risk!"

"Hey,  _you're_ the one who was telling me HIV isn't such a big problem!" Mercedes shoots back. "You wanna  _date_ a positive guy for god's sake. So what are you making such a big fuss about?"

"Just because you can live with HIV doesn't mean you should go looking for it!" Kurt exasperates, unbelieving. Mercedes wrongfully thinking she doesn't have to use condoms is one thing, but her downright trivializing the impact it can have on someone's life, especially after how she's been acting towards Blaine, is something he can't quite deal with right now. "And did you consider hepatitis, or gonorrhea? Because those are a little less family-friendly, you know?"

Mercedes looks like she wants to say something, but Kurt just shakes his head, raising his hands.

"Whatever, Mercedes. Just... whatever... "

He turns around without another word, walking down the stairs and out on the street on autopilot, trying to keep himself calm as his heart hammers in his chest, but it's hopeless - even the Aretha Franklin clone on the subway doesn't sing loud enough to drown out his thoughts, and with every stop the train makes, every extra mile that separates him from Mercedes, his anger and indignation only increase. He's not sure what pisses him off more - that Mercedes is cheating on Sam, that she hadn't told him, or that she dismissed his concerns about safety so easily. He can't wrap his head around either, but it's the thought of Mercedes being this reckless with her health that just makes the bile rise in his throat.

His phone rings but he refuses the call when he sees the caller ID - he wants to talk to David even less than he wants to talk to Mercedes right now and he just wants to get home, wants to get to Blaine and have him calm him down because he doesn't know what to tell himself anymore.

It seems like forever before he finally reaches their apartment, and he heaves a sigh of relief when he spots Blaine's jacket in the closet, meaning Blaine is already home. Kurt finds him in the kitchen, and he doesn't even bother to give an explanation or answer Blaine's worried questions before he flings himself at him - arms wrapped around Blaine's neck, face buried against his shoulder, but it isn't until he feels Blaine's arms close in around him that he lets himself breathe out again, and cry.

"What happened?" Blaine finally asks tentatively when Kurt starts to get himself back under control a little. He tries to pull back, but Kurt doesn't budge, instead tightening his grip on Blaine. "Did you... have a fight, or something?"

"She's cheating," Kurt blurts out, not moving from where he's holding on to Blaine. "Mercedes is cheating on Sam with David and how can she do that to him?"

Instantly he feels Blaine's arms close more firmly around him, pulling him closer and grounding him. He's vaguely aware Blaine is talking to him softly but he's not really listening, just lets himself be carried by the soothing sound of Blaine's voice, and he buries his face a little deeper against Blaine's neck.

"I would never cheat on you," he whispers. "Never. I don't care how long you'd be away for, if your internship takes six weeks or six months or six years, I don't care if it's in LA or in Australia or on the moon - I would never,  _ever_  do that to you."

It takes him a few seconds to realize why Blaine has suddenly gone rigid in his arms - but as soon as he does he jumps back, looking at Blaine with widening eyes.

"Oh god..." he stammers, clutching his hands against his mouth. "Oh god, I didn't... I mean - I don't... I just... I'm sorry. Oh my god, I'm sorry. Oh god I'm so sorry - I shouldn't have said that."

He stares at Blaine, both fearing his reaction and craving it, but Blaine's expression is unreadable, his eyes dark and and his jaw tense, and Kurt just wishes he would say something because he sure doesn't know what he's supposed to say now - if anything, he figures he has said enough for today. Instead Blaine just keeps watching him, as if he's trying to seize him up, trying to figure out what Kurt meant.

"Maybe we should talk?"


	15. Chapter 14

"I'm really really sorry," Kurt starts frantically as soon as they sit down in the couch, but Blaine immediately cuts him off.

"Don't be," he says with a flick of his hand. "I mean, unless you're genuinely sorry. But don't just apologize for my sake."

"I didn't want to freak you out," Kurt tries to explain once more, but again Blaine starts shaking his head.

"Don't worry about it, you didn't freak me out," he says reassuringly, although the way he's biting his lip is in direct contradiction with his words. "You just...  _surprised_  me."

They fall silent, and it takes a couple of minutes before Kurt realizes Blaine is waiting for  _him_ to start talking. He's the one whose ill-considered remark has started this, after all.

The only problem is he has no idea where to start, because the words that had so thoughtlessly escaped him had come out of nowhere, and even if they hadn't freaked out  _Blaine_ , they had most certainly freaked out  _Kurt_  - although to be fair he isn't quite sure whether it is just because of what he said, or because of how much he meant it.

"Santana..." he finally tries, part of his nerves dissipating when he sees Blaine's surprise. "Santana - she said we act like a married couple."

"But you don't agree," Blaine guesses, not giving any hint of how he feels about the statement, and Kurt wobbles his head.

"I didn't," he says contemplatively. "But then... then I thought about it, and... she's kind of right. I mean - whenever people invite us over, they invite us together. Everywhere we go, except for school and the occasional girls' night, we're together. We live together, we make dinner together, ... we even have stupid fights together. And like this morning? Don't get me wrong, I loved it, but... people don't  _do_  that.  _Friends_  don't do that. And sometimes it's like we're a couple without the label or the sex."

Kurt lets the words linger, expecting some kind of reaction from Blaine. It takes him a while before he understands why it doesn't come.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

Because that doesn't make any sense. If Blaine had thought it too, for god knows how long, if he'd felt that they were acting more like boyfriends than like friends, why didn't he say anything? Why didn't he try to talk to Kurt, try to convince him to give them another shot? Did he not... did he not want them to be together anymore?

"It wasn't... I didn't know if maybe I was making it up in my head," Blaine finally replies, shifting sideways so he can better look at Kurt. "I didn't want to force you to put a label on something I wasn't even sure you were feeling."

"Clearly Santana wasn't as considerate," Kurt blurts out with an eye roll and Blaine gives him a short smile, but then quickly schools his expression back to that unreadable front. It unsettles Kurt more then he'd like to admit, until he remembers the way Blaine had avoided his question the last time Kurt had asked whether he wanted to be more than friends, that night before Santana had given him her lecture.

_He doesn't think he deserves me anymore. That's why he settled for that strange pseudo-relationship of ours, why he really didn't tell me. Because he thinks it's all I'll want to give him anyway._

He only realizes he's been staring at Blaine when Blaine looks away, ducking his head, and suddenly Kurt aches to touch him, although he knows he doesn't have to - he would never forget how it felt to touch Blaine.

Still...

He reaches out slowly, to give Blaine a chance to back away. He doesn't, though, and Kurt lets his fingers trail along Blaine's forehead, over his temple and further down along his jaw bone. Blaine shivers under the touch, but he doesn't say anything, lets Kurt explore - slowly, gently.

"Sometimes I think I can see it, you know," Kurt says softly, cupping Blaine's cheek and watching his own thumb stroke over it. "The virus. I can see it, crawling under your skin, coursing through your veins, angry, looking for a way out. It knows I'm here and it's just waiting, biding its time, until I forget, for a moment, that it wants to get me, too."

When he reaches up again, fingertips following the line of Blaine's eyebrows, Blaine closes his eyes, and Kurt suspects he enjoys the touch as much as Kurt does, even if he's trying not to show it. And even though the last couple of weeks they've been more physical with each other, it has never been like this. Never so... _close_.

It's never been so obvious.

"I want to be with you, Blaine, I really do. I want to be with you so badly it scares me. But that... that  _thing_... it scares me even more."

He lets his hand rest on the side of Blaine's neck as he meets the dark eyes staring back at him, and he can feel Blaine's pulse quickening under his touch. It's a strange feeling, knowing that the blood pumping beneath his fingers both gives Blaine life and holds what could take it away, and Kurt can feel his mouth run dry.

"We don't have to, you know," Blaine murmurs. "We can just...  _be_. Together. As we are. If you don't... We don't have to... have sex... to be a valid couple."

"But I  _want_  to have sex with you!" Kurt exasperates, letting go of Blaine. "I  _want_  to touch you, and kiss you, and watch you come undone - for  _me_.  _Because_ of me."

Kurt can see Blaine's eyes widen in surprise, and it gives him just that bit of courage he needs to continue talking.

"I know there's lots of stuff we can do... safe stuff... but every time I look at you it's  _there_ and it paralyzes me. The idea of what it could do to me. What it could do to  _you_. And it just... doesn't seem fair to you. To be so scared. To be with you... without  _being with you_."

"I'm not sure what you want from me then, Kurt," Blaine says slowly, the look in his eyes and the sound of his voice equal parts hope and insecurity, and it almost breaks Kurt's heart. Because what he wants is for Blaine to just kiss him, and to kiss him back; what he wants is for them to just figure things out together. He can hear Nick's voice in the back of his head - _short from swallowing there is nóthing we did you couldn't do with Blaine_ \- and he's almost surprised to find that that idea doesn't even freak him out anymore.

The problem is he's not 100% sure he won't freak out when he's faced with the reality of it.

"Time," he finally answers Blaine's question, glancing down at his hands. Blaine has already given him so much time, and it seems hypocritical to ask for even more. "I want to... I want us to be together, I really do. But I want 'us' to be really 'us', and not some faint blueprint of what we could be. And I can't... I can't give you everything. Yet."

"But Kurt... ," Blaine says softly, eyes wide, "Kurt, you just  _have_."

Kurt doesn't even think about pulling away when Blaine leans in and presses their lips together, soft at first and then, when he feels Kurt doesn't back away, just a little firmer - dry and warm just  _there_.

It hasn't lasted nearly long enough when Blaine pulls away, and they take a moment to catch their breath, foreheads still pressed together.

"Okay... ," Kurt finally breaks the silence, letting out a shaky laugh, "I didn't see that one coming."

He intended it to be a joke, but instead Blaine's eyes just widen in shock, as if he only now realizes just what had happened, and he immediately pulls away from Kurt.

"Oh god," he says guiltily, almost panicked, rubbing his hands over his face and avoiding Kurt's eyes. "Oh god I'm sorry, that was - way too forward. I shouldn't have- but you... and I-"

"Hey!" Kurt interrupts him, reaching out to make Blaine look at him. "It's all right, that's not what I meant, it's... I didn't think you'd want to... to... . Well, let's just say I didn't expect that reaction."

He smiles, but Blaine ducks his head, biting his lip.

"Look Kurt, I'm-" he starts, obviously searching for his words, "I know it's not the same, but I don't really want... all that... either. Sex, I mean. Yet. I don't... I mean..." He rubs his forehead, taking a deep breath before continuing a little firmer. "It was only Brad. Once. And then you. Trust me, if that's the only thing holding you back I'm... I probably want to take things even slower than you do."

It leaves Kurt speechless for a second. Because he has never even considered it, that, when it comes to sex, out of the two of them he is actually the more experienced one. And if  _Kurt_ has a hard time separating sex with Blaine from HIV, it has to be even more difficult for Blaine himself, who's had sex all of two times.

The first time he'd gotten infected with HIV.

The second time he had almost passed it on to his boyfriend.

"I'm pretty clueless, really," Blaine continues, and Kurt just squeezes his hand, because he's not sure what to say to that. So much has happened over the past few weeks between the two of them - they've screamed and laughed and cried and cuddled, but he's never been more sure that being with Blaine is what makes him happy. And even though he doesn't know whether they'll be able to make it work -whether Blaine will be able to give him the openness and the honesty he needs, whether  _he_  will be able to not worry himself to death- he realizes that there's no way he  _can_  know either. He could spend another six months, or even six years, trying to figure things out, but he'll never get any closer to being absolutely certain that he will be able to navigate this relationship successfully.

It's a relationship. It's life. And there are no certainties.

But the truth of the matter is that they  _are_  making it work, that they have been making it work for weeks - months, even. With ups and downs, with laughter and with tears, but they're both still here, they're both still willing to put in the effort and  _force_  it to work if need be.

At least, Kurt is.

"Could we... do you think... maybe... we could figure it out together?" he asks, hope and fear and excitement battling for dominance in his chest, but when he sees Blaine look back at him with the same mixture of emotions in his eyes, he doesn't hesitate. He leans in for another kiss, and Blaine gasps when he lets his tongue trail over his bottom lip, trying not to think too much about how bold he's being as he presses forward. He's been thinking too much over the last few months, always thinking, always afraid, but he's done thinking now, he's done being scared. And while some vague, distant part of him tells him he might regret this in the morning, somehow he knows he won't. Because his skin is tingling and his stomach is clenching, every single fibre of his being screaming as he explores Blaine's mouth with his tongue, searches for a taste of  _Blaine_  as he re-acquaints himself with its shape, its texture, and Kurt has never felt more right, more at home, than in this moment.

When he pulls back he runs his hand through Blaine's hair as he drinks in the simple proximity of him, heart swelling at the amazement and wonder in Blaine's eyes.

"Kurt," Blaine starts, "Kurt, you don't h-"

"I want to," Kurt interrupts him, "I don't know  _how_ , but I do want this."

He knows he might screw up. In fact, he's pretty sure he'll screw up. But Blaine kissed him. He kissed Blaine. And there is no possible way he can go back to  _before_.

"You really think we can make this work?" Blaine whispers.

It's as much a question as it is a statement, and Kurt shoots Blaine a bashful smile.

"I hope so," he whispers back. "I really want us to."

-o0o-

They spend the night in Kurt's bed - giggling, cuddling, and kissing, exchanging sweet nothings and talking about silly things, like whether the man in the moon would be gay (yes) and why chickens were never purple (it would make the eggs taste bad). There are no wandering hands, no passion to lose themselves in, the both of them simply reveling in the proximity of one another, the simple but beautiful reality of  _them_. In a way it is no different from how they have always been, only now they've given themselves permission to actually enjoy it.

When Blaine wakes up the next morning, he finds himself alone in bed, and it takes him a couple of minutes to realize why it feels odd - until he takes in the unfamiliar surroundings and the events from last night come back to him.

Kurt had kissed him. Not accidentally, not just a peck on the cheek or even the lips but an actual, real kiss. More than one, too, come to think of it.

He's just pushing himself up, wondering where Kurt has gone -he hasn't changed his mind has he?- when the door opens slowly, and Kurt's ass appears, followed by his back, his arms, and finally, a tray with what appears to be a stack of crêpes. There are two glasses of juice there as well -freshly squeezed, if the amount of pulp is any indication-, which seems to be the reason Kurt makes his way to the bed very, very slowly.

"Good morning," he tells Blaine shyly as he puts down the tray in front of him, settling down on the bed with his legs tucked under him. He seems unsure of what to do next, and Blaine realizes he's waiting for him to say something.

"Good morning," he replies, bending forward slightly to cup Kurt's face, rubbing his thumb over Kurt's cheek as he tugs lightly. Kurt complies immediately, leaning in to press his lips against Blaine's, and Blaine can't help but hum in enjoyment. He'll never take Kurt's kisses for granted, he knows that much.

They pull apart, and Blaine looks down at the tray beneath them.

"I know I don't have 'the magic swirl'," Kurt tells him playfully before he can say anything, "but I tried."

"They smell delicious," Blaine says earnestly, smiling as he looks back up. "You didn't need to do that, you know?"

"I wanted to," Kurt assures him. "To... celebrate?"

He looks up at Blaine, uncharacteristically shy, as if he somehow expects Blaine to turn him down.  _Doesn't he know I've been dreaming of this day forever_ , Blaine wonders, and he holds out his arm, wobbling his fingers.

"Come here," he says, pressing a kiss against Kurt's temple when he scoots over, melting into Blaine's embrace. "Let's celebrate."

The crêpes are as delicious as they smelled, Blaine discovers, and within two minutes he's already eaten three, leading Kurt to express his concerns about not only the amount of pancakes prepared, but also -and more importantly- the effect on Blaine's cholesterol levels.

"My cholesterol will be fine," Blaine laughs, reaching for his glass of juice. "Besides, you're the one who's made crêpes for the second day in a row, so don't go blaming me for enjoying."

He takes a gulp of the juice, face distorting when an unexpected bitterness registers in his mouth.

"No offense," he says, sniffing the glass, "but are you sure these oranges were still good? 'Cause they taste a bit... off."

Kurt immediately reaches for his own glass, smelling at it suspiciously before he takes a tentative sip.

"I think it's fine," he says, smacking a bit to spread the taste in his mouth, "a bit bitter, maybe, but that's just the grapefruit, I'm sure."

Blaine almost chokes on his next gulp.

"It's  _grapefruit_ juice?"

"We only had two oranges left," Kurt explains, eyeing Blaine with increased worry when he starts wiping his mouth furiously, "so I added a grapefruit as well. Adding a bit of flavor? Why, did I do something wrong?"

"N-no," Blaine says, putting down the napkin, but even he hears how unconvincing it sounds. He can see Kurt is still watching him, trying to make sense of Blaine's reaction, and for a second Blaine is tempted to retort to his usual answer in these situations - that he's allergic to grapefruit. It's not that far from the truth, after all.

But this is his boyfriend now. This is  _Kurt_.

"I'm sorry for shouting," he says a bit sheepishly, "it's just... I can't have grapefruit."

"You...  _can't_?" Kurt repeats, looking puzzled. "Why, are you allergic or something?"

"Not quite," Blaine says hesitantly, resisting the urge to simply say 'yes' and taking a deep breath. "There's this...  _reaction_... between my ARTs and grapefruit. It changes the levels of the drugs in my blood -up or down, I don't quite remember which- when really they should be constant, so... yeah... I-eh... I shouldn't have it."

Even with all the talking they've done this past week he knows neither of them are completely comfortable discussing anything related to Blaine's health yet and so he's not surprised at the sudden silence after the mention of his meds, but he's not expecting the horrified look in Kurt's eyes when he looks back at Blaine, and it makes his stomach twist.

"Kurt? Kurt, are you all right?"

But Kurt just shakes his head, detaching himself from Blaine as his eyes dart all over the room and then back to Blaine, his face even paler than usual.

"Kurt?" Blaine asks again, his worry increasing. "Say something, Kurt, what's wrong? Did I do something or-"

"I almost poisoned you!" Kurt chokes out, cutting him off. "I... you..."

It's all Blaine needs to hear and he hurries to put the breakfast tray on the floor next to the bed, turning back immediately to reach out for Kurt. He struggles when Blaine tries to pull him in, but even though he has clearly been working out more lately Blaine has years of boxing under his belt, and he easily wraps his arms around the shaking man, pressing him close.

"Hey... it's ok," he whispers, "I'm ok. You didn't know. It's ok."

"I c-could've  _killed_ you!" Kurt sobs. "I c-could've..."

"... made me feel nauseous for a few hours, tops," Blaine tells him, rocking him softly. "Unless you count that heart attack you just gave me, that  _could've_ killed me."

"It's not  _funny_!" Kurt yells, breaking away and swatting at Blaine's chest. "Why didn't you tell me? And don't you dare give me that it's-not-important crap!"

Blaine has to try his hardest to suppress a grin - he's very aware of the seriousness of their conversation, but he can't help it. He'll never admit it to Kurt, partly because he knows Kurt wouldn't believe him, but this is his favorite Kurt. Because even though his face is blotched from crying and his hair is wild he's 100%  _Kurt_ \- fierce and passionate, ready to tear down anything or anyone who dares to cross his path.

"I forgot. Because it's not important." He puts a finger against Kurt's lips when he sees he's about to protest. "If a gulp of grapefruit juice could hurt me, let alone  _kill_ me, don't you think I would've told you? I know I may seem secretive, but I'm not suicidal. I would probably have to drink a whole glass of pure juice to feel any effect, if I would feel anything at all, and more than that to have any long term effects. It's. not. important."

He punctuates the last words by tapping his finger against Kurt's nose, but Kurt shakes his head again, wrapping his arms around himself as he glares at Blaine.

"You still should've told me," he grumbles, clearly not convinced. "See, that's what I mean: every time I think I know it all, something else pops up."

"Well, now you know it all," Blaine acquiesces, spreading his arms.

"That's what you say every time," Kurt says stubbornly, although Blaine can tell it's more because he's recovering from the shock than because he is actually angry. "What else? Any allergies you haven't told me about? A gambling addiction? If there's anything I don't know, now's the time to tell me, because otherwise I swear to Marc Jacobs' new winter collection - I will replace your hair gel with glue and I will  _not_  help you get it out."

"You would not!" Blaine gasps, pressing his hand against his chest in mock shock, and he's still looking for a witty retort when he remembers the letter out on the kitchen counter, the one he hadn't had the chance to tell Kurt about the day before, and he can feel a mischievous smile creep up on his face.

"I knew it!" Kurt exasperates when he sees Blaine's smile, throwing a pillow at his head. "I  _knew_  it! It's always the same with you, Anderson, _always_! So, which one is it? You got cancer? You're a drug dealer? You turned straight?"

An amused chuckle bubbles up in Blaine's throat.

"I- no, I'm still very much gay, thankyouverymuch. Without a criminal record. And cancer-free, as far as I know. I-" He glances at the bedroom door and then turns back to Kurt. "I'm just gonna get something, all right? Just wait here, don't move."

He slips out of bed, jogging to the kitchen and back as quickly as he can - in the warm bedroom he was fine in just his boxers, but it's considerably colder out and he hurries to get back under the sheets with Kurt who, by the time he gets back, has pulled a couple of extra pillows on the bed, making himself more comfortable.

"I thought I told you not to move," Blaine tells him off good-naturedly as he slips next to him under the covers, handing Kurt the white envelope before he scoots closer, trying to steal some of Kurt's body heat.

Kurt doesn't even bother to reply, shooting Blaine a condescending look as he pulls out the letter and unfolds it, and Blaine watches while he reads, learns about the 6-week internship at HAPE Blaine has been granted.

"It's in Los Angeles," Blaine says quietly, "but I might be able to just do my training there and then set up a project here in New York - the letter only came yesterday, I still have to figure it out."

But Kurt doesn't even seem to hear him, throwing his arms around Blaine's neck and nearly suffocating him in the process.

"I'm so happy for you - congratulations!"

Kurt pulls back, but not before pressing a firm kiss against Blaine's lips. "This is the one you wanted, right?"

"Yes," Blaine nods, smiling broadly, happy because  _Kurt_ is happy, and because it seems to have taken his mind off of the grapefruit incident at least. "Yes, this is the one I wanted. But as I said it's in Lo-"

"Sshht," Kurt silences him with another kiss. "It's not important."

He smiles coyly, moving to straddle Blaine after he puts the letter down on the nightstand, effectively trapping Blaine between the headboard and himself, and it's all Blaine can do to simply look at him, wondering not for the first time just what it was he had done to deserve not only knowing a person as sweet and caring as Kurt, but also to have him love him back.

He feels more than he sees how Kurt raises his hands to softly run his thumbs over Blaine's cheeks before he lets them come to rest on the sides of his neck, pulling slightly, and Blaine gladly concedes.

"Seems like we have one more reason to celebrate," Kurt whispers against Blaine's lips before he kisses them, softly. They are more small, airy pecks than they are actual kisses, and Blaine gasps when Kurt turns bolder, licking and nibbling gently, easily taking advantage of Blaine's now parted lips to slide his tongue inside Blaine's mouth, exploring the taste and the texture and the  _warmth_ of it as if it's the first time they meet, as if they haven't been doing exactly this for hours the night before.

Blaine returns the kiss with an eagerness that surprises even himself, and the fact that Kurt still has a firm hold on his neck, keeping him in place, does nothing to decrease the heat building up low in his stomach - on the contrary. He reaches out on instinct, letting his hands wander freely over Kurt's shoulders and down along his sides, pressing them even closer, and when Kurt takes his bottom lip and sucks it into his mouth he groans, pulling Kurt down as his hips buck up involuntarily.

It takes him only half a second before he realizes what he's done and he immediately freezes - they'd agreed on taking it slow, but what exactly 'slow' constituted hadn't been specified. And while Kurt had been the one to crawl on his lap in the first place, Blaine isn't too sure exactly where the line lies for Kurt - or even for himself.

"I- eh..." he starts hesitantly, not knowing whether to apologize or to ask for permission, but when he looks up Kurt is watching him curiously, head cocked to the side, as if he's not sure why Blaine has suddenly pulled away from their kiss. "I just- we said we would take things slow," he finally manages a little sheepishly, and Kurt lifts a questioning eyebrow.

"Well, yeah - but not... not _that_ slow, right?" he asks, although he immediately backpedals. "I mean- unless you want to take it that slow, of course. Because it would be totally fine if you did."

"Oh no! No... no," Blaine hurries to say, ready to hit himself over the head for how clumsy he sounds. He has no idea things like this usually work, how he is supposed to know where the line between 'too slow' and 'too fast' is. Should they make a list, maybe? "I just... I didn't want to freak you out, I guess."

"Well... I admit I wasn't immediately prepared for...  _that_ ," Kurt giggles, sitting back a little and nodding at Blaine's boxer briefs where it's painfully obvious he's already half-hard. "But I'm hardly in a position to judge, am I?"

It's only now that Blaine sees the slight bulge in Kurt's pants matching his own, and he swallows painfully, forcing himself to tear his gaze away although he can't immediately bring himself to look up at Kurt. When their eyes finally do meet however, Kurt shifts a little.

"You can... you know... touch. If you wanted to."

The words are spoken quietly, and the accompanying bashful smile sends a jolt through Blaine's stomach.

"Are you sure?" he asks. Because he wants to, he really, really wants to. But he has to ask, if not for Kurt's sake then for his own. "It's not because we... we don't have to do this. You don't have to-"

"I know," Kurt says, sounding a little breathless and nervous, but still determined. "But- we can... figure it out. Right?"

Blaine nods, his own breath hitching in his throat. He's fantasized about this, hoped that one day he would find a man who he could trust -and who trusted  _him-_  enough to be able to take this step, wished that it wouldn't be just a silly, love struck fantasy. But the sudden reality of it, and the fact that it's  _Kurt_ , of all people, he's doing this with, leaves him a bit dizzy.

Kurt seems to misunderstand his sudden silence, though, because he scoots a little further back.

"It's ok if you're not comfortable, you know," he says hesitantly, although he's unable to hide the hint of disappointment in his voice. "There's two of us in this."

"No!" Blaine says quickly and he strengthens his hold on Kurt's hips to prevent him from moving further back, trying to catch Kurt's gaze as he thinks how to explain this to Kurt. "No... it's not- it's not  _that_. It's just this... it's a bit much to take in, really."

To his surprise, Kurt starts laughing softly.

"I know," he says, biting his lip as he glances up at Blaine. "Me too."

Without hesitation, Blaine leans forward, capturing Kurt's mouth in a heated kiss, desperate to let Kurt know how grateful he is, how incredibly lucky he considers himself to still have him, despite everything that's happened.

They finally break away panting, foreheads still pressed together, and they stay like that for a couple of minutes, simply enjoying each other's presence and proximity. It's not that Blaine doesn't want to take Kurt up on his offer, but he's just not sure exactly how to go about it. It seems Kurt understands though, because he's the one to bring his arm down, placing his hand over Blaine's where it is still resting on his hip.

"I want you to stop me as soon as you're not comfortable anymore, ok?" he says softly as he leans forward again, pressing a light kiss against the corner of Blaine's mouth, and it's all Blaine can do to just nod and let Kurt take control.

Their eyes remain fixed on each other as their hands move together, slowly, along Kurt's thigh and down towards his crotch, and when Blaine's hand finally closes down around Kurt's hard-on they both suck in a breath. Kurt presses both their hands down, simultaneously rolling his hips up, looking for friction, and Blaine can feel Kurt's erection grow under his hand. It's not the first time he's held another man's cock, but it  _is_  the first time he actually dares to take the time and allow himself to enjoy it - the warmth and the feel of it, undeniable even through the thin layer of fabric. He strokes his hand up experimentally, feeling his own cock twitch at the moans it elicits from Kurt and he tilts his head, seeking out Kurt's mouth. Kurt seems to have a different idea, though, pulling back a little, lips just out of Blaine's reach, forcing Blaine to lean in a bit further. But when he does Kurt simply repeats his game and Blaine groans in frustration, lifting his free hand to grab at Kurt's neck, pulling him in with a little more force than necessary.

"I never knew you were such a tease," he whispers accusingly against Kurt's lips when he pulls away from their kiss, and Kurt chuckles.

"I thought for sure the three years it has taken for us to get together would have been a clue."

He lets go of Blaine's hand then and scoots backwards, rolling his eyes when Blaine moans at the loss of contact.

"Come here, silly," he giggles, tugging at Blaine's hips, and Blaine lets himself be dragged down onto his back, lifting his arms in a silent plea for Kurt to get closer. But Kurt leans back on his heels instead, drinking in the view of him, shirtless and maybe preening just a little bit under the attention. Blaine's never been extremely self-conscious - he's received enough compliments from guys -and girls- to know that he's not bad-looking. But here, now, with Kurt looking at him as if he's the most beautiful person he's ever seen, Blaine aches for him - aches to touch and to be touched, to let Kurt see every part of him. And so when Kurt brings up his hands, dragging them down Blaine's chest he can't help the moan that escapes his lips, and he closes his eyes as he throws his head back, the pressure of Kurt's fingers going straight to his cock.

"You're gorgeous," Kurt whispers against his lips, and Blaine's sure under other circumstances he would've returned the compliment, but right now, with Kurt hovering over him, his warmth surrounding him, it's all he can do to lift his head and kiss Kurt hungrily, claiming what should have been his years ago.

"Off," he grumbles when he feels Kurt's shirt stroke against his stomach. It only takes one tug for Kurt to sit a little straighter and pull his pajama top over his head, tossing it carelessly behind him before he surges forward again, fisting his hands in Blaine's hair as he kisses him.

"Aren't you going to fold that?" Blaine asks between kisses, and he chuckles when he hears Kurt groan in disapproval.

"Priorities, Blaine. Priorities," Kurt mumbles as he trails Blaine's jawline with kisses, tracing down along his neck, and every touch, every breath feels to Blaine as if his skin is on fire. He drags his hands along Kurt's side and further down, cupping his ass cheeks to pull him closer but it's not enough, and he bends his leg, using it to push himself off and turn them around.

"You're going to drive m-  _fuck_!"

A sharp pain shoots through his leg, and he immediately pushes Kurt away from him, sitting up to grab at his calf.

"Are you ok?" Kurt asks worriedly, his voice breathy and his cheeks flushed from their previous activities, and Blaine shrugs.

"Yeah," he grumbles, "just your fucking toe nail."

He leans forward to take a closer look, wincing as he follows the trail of red across the back of his leg with his thumb, and he feels a surge of relief when he sees the skin appears intact.

"It's just a graze," he tells Kurt. "Didn't go through the skin, it's fine."

But Kurt doesn't say anything, and when Blaine looks up at him and sees him stare at Blaine's leg with wide open eyes he throws himself back on the bed.

"Oh fuck," he groans, covering his face with his hands. "I really ruined it now, didn't I?"

"Hey, no - no!" Kurt immediately scoots closers, swinging his leg back over him to straddle him. "No!" he repeats, peeling away Blaine's hands. "We said- we said we were going to figure this out, right? So... that's what we're doing, we're figuring it out. Lesson one - I need to cut my nails more often."

There's a tremble to Kurt's voice, but when Blaine finally dares to meet his eyes he can see nothing but stubborn determination, and before he can think of something to say Kurt's already leaning down, kissing him for all he's worth. And with Kurt still on top of him, still holding his wrists, it's all Blaine can do to just kiss him back, and when they finally break apart, Blaine can't help but smile.

"What?" Kurt asks, looking at him a little suspiciously, but Blaine simply shrugs.

"You're doing that zig-zag thing again," he says lazily, lifting his hand to cup Kurt's cheek and pretty sure that, if he were to look in a mirror right now, his pupils would be heart-shaped. Kurt, on the other hand, still looks a little apprehensive.

"Is that a good thing or a bad thing?"

"Oh - a good thing," Blaine whispers, smiling as he curls his hand around Kurt's neck to pull him closer, "a really, really good thing."

The kiss is slower and more deliberate than their previous one, and Blaine shivers when Kurt moves away from his mouth, dotting his face with small kisses until he reaches Blaine's ear.

"This okay?" he asks softly.

And it  _is_  okay -  _more_ than okay, even, because Kurt is everywhere around him, his thighs pressed tight against Blaine's, his lips on his neck and his fingers trailing over his chest, mapping out the lines of his shoulders and pecs and abs, leaving goosebumps in their wake. And it feels better - so much better than Blaine has ever imagined it would feel, and even if this was all Kurt would ever be willing to give him he knows it would be enough. His hands seem to wander on their own accord, traveling down over Kurt's back and when Kurt traces his tongue along the curve of his ear, circling the lobe before he closes his lips around it and tugs at it gently, Blaine's hands tighten around Kurt's hips and he arches his head back, exposing his neck in silent plea for more. Kurt's chuckle vibrates against his skin, but Blaine can't bring himself to care - Kurt can make fun of Blaine all he wants as long as he doesn't stop doing what he's doing now, gently kissing Blaine's neck as he slowly makes his way down to Blaine's collarbones.

The sudden sensation of Kurt's tongue swirling around his nipple makes Blaine gasp and he brings his hands up to bury them in Kurt's hair, tugging ever so slightly, wordlessly asking Kurt to not stop, to please never stop. He should have known not to mess with Kurt's hair, though.

"U-uh," Kurt says playfully, his fingers hot against Blaine's skin when he pushes Blaine's arms behind his head. "My treat."

Blaine wants to protest, he honestly does, but it's hard to think of any counterarguments when Kurt's hands and lips are ghosting over his chest again, touching and nibbling and kissing every square inch of him, and for the first time in his life Blaine allows himself to get lost in the sensation, to enjoy the feel and the proximity of  _Kurt_  without worrying about boundaries and limits only he is aware of. The realization that, from now on, he no longer has to fight the feeling of want building low in his stomach simply makes his head spin, and when Kurt dips his tongue in his belly button he groans, back arching and knuckles turning white as his fingers close tight around the edge of the headboard.

But when Kurt moves down even further the heated want quickly turns into panic, and his hand instantly snaps down to grab at Kurt's wrist. He doesn't want Kurt's fingers hooking under the waistband of his boxer briefs, doesn't want Kurt's  _mouth_  anywhere near the wet spot of pre-come rapidly forming on the front of them. It's too much - too fast - too soon. But when he lifts his head to tell Kurt to stop he finds Kurt already waiting for him, staring right back at him.  _I won't go further,_ Kurt's eyes tell him, _I'm not ready either, and I won't_ _._  He holds Blaine's gaze in silent reassurance as he gently kisses his way from one hipbone to the other, nibbling and teasing but never crossing the cotton barrier of Blaine's boxers that they have both wordlessly agreed on. And slowly, Blaine can feel himself relax again, and he lets his head fall back on the pillow, closing his eyes when Kurt frees his wrist from Blaine's grip, lacing their fingers together instead.

"Oh god yes," he moans when Kurt traces the soft trail of hair that leads down from his navel with his tongue, toes curling and fingers clutching at Kurt's even more tightly. But it isn't until he feels the gentle pressure of Kurt's free hand over his crotch that he realizes how hard he is already, and he instinctively pushes his hips up into Kurt's touch, looking for friction and fervently hoping that Kurt doesn't choose this moment to start teasing again. But to his relief Kurt indulges him, gently stroking his cock and mouthing over his balls, slowly working him over, and Blaine is not prepared for how amazing it feels even through the thin fabric of his boxers, the teasing pull-and-drag of the cotton against his hard-on making him gasp for air.

The heat that's building up low in the pit of his stomach is familiar but the intensity is new - every inch of his skin tingling, every single nerve in his body burning with a fervor Blaine has never felt before. And even though it costs him more energy that he's willing to admit he lifts his head because he wants to see,  _needs_  to see that this is not just a dream, that it is  _Kurt_  between his legs, making him feel this way, giving him everything he's never allowed himself to want. But when Kurt looks up at him through his eyelashes, slowly dragging his nail along the wet fabric covering his cock it's more than Blaine can take. He's too close and not ready for this to be over yet, and so he tugs at the hand Kurt is still holding, pulling him up to crash their mouths together. His lips end up somewhere next to Kurt's nose instead but he doesn't care, cupping Kurt's face with both hands to bring him closer, frantically trying to share the fire and the ardor that seem to have taking over his body.

But he hadn't counted on the gloriously torturous drag of Kurt's body, lean and strong and solid against his hard-on as he pulls him up, and even through the layers of clothing that separate their bodies he can feel Kurt's erection press hard against his own, making him groan in desperation as they kiss, lips searching and tongues stroking and licking into each other's mouths. He lets his fingers ghost over the expanse of Kurt's chest, admiring the contrast between the pale skin of Kurt's stomach and that of his own tanned hands, and he can't suppress a smug smile at Kurt's hiss when he lets his thumbs stroke over the other man's nipples.

"Now who's teasing?" Kurt asks, a little breathless. The mischief and desperationin his voice goes straight to Blaine's cock, and Blaine knows he won't be able to last much longer.

As if Kurt has read his mind he rolls down his hips, and Blaine gasps once again at the friction that sends shivers down his spine, at the sight of Kurt throwing back his head, emitting a low growl of pleasure that makes the hairs on Blaine's neck stand up.

"Kurt… fuck!" he groans and Kurt laughs, actually  _laughs_  as he looks down at Blaine, his hair ruffled in the most delightful, sexy way, his eyes sparkling with joy, and Blaine knows he'll never forget this image of Kurt - happy and blissful and completely carefree as he rolls down his hips once more, grin widening even further at the moan it elicits from Blaine.

"Not today," Kurt whispers playfully, shaking his head a little. It sounds less like a dismissal and more like a promise though, and Blaine swallows thickly when the meaning behind the words hits him. Because not only has Kurt already gone above and beyond what Blaine had wanted or even hoped for - he's telling him there is even more to come. And it's all Blaine can do to just nod, heart clenching at the spark of relief in Kurt's eyes when he confirms: "Not today."

He lifts his head and Kurt meets him halfway, using his whole body to press Blaine down against the mattress, and Blaine revels in the feeling of Kurt, in the weight of him against his mouth, his chest, his stomach, his cock, as they grind against each other in a slow, tantalizing rhythm that quickly picks up. It sends Blaine's arousal to peak even sharper than before, and he doesn't even have the time to warn Kurt before his orgasm washes over him and rushes through his body, and through the blissful haze he barely even notices how Kurt grinds down against him just a little longer before he collapses on top of Blaine, shaking and panting from the force of his own orgasm.

Blaine holds Kurt as he lets himself come down from his high, heart still racing in his chest, and he can't remember ever feeling this happy. It's not the sex, or at least - not  _just_  the sex, although even now, mere minutes after, Blaine can already feel his cock twitch at the thought of getting to do that again - and again - and again.

And so it  _is_ sex, but it's also finally being able to open up to someone, it's allowing someone to enjoy his body and being allowed to enjoy theirs in return, it's knowing that this wasn't a mistake, that they were both in this completely and voluntarily, and most of all it's that someone being Kurt. Kurt who he thought he might have lost forever when they woke up in this very same room barely six months earlier and Kurt who had fought, teeth and claws, to get them back to this point, and Blaine promises himself he will not ever forget this feeling, will not ever take Kurt, or what they have, for granted.

"Why are you crying?" Kurt whispers, and it's only now that Blaine registers the wetness on his cheeks, and he's not sure what to say when he looks down at Kurt, snuggled against his side with worry in his eyes. Because how do you explain to someone that a dream you had for almost three years, a dream you thought you'd destroyed single-handedly, has finally come true? How do you tell them that reality has turned out to be even better than you had ever imagined it?

"Us," he says finally, wiping at his cheek. "This. Everything."

Kurt doesn't reply but reaches up instead, pressing a soft kiss against Blaine's lips.

"I love you," he whispers, and Blaine's not sure how his body doesn't explode having those three little words stacked on top of everything else that has happened in the past two days.

"And I love you," he whispers back, nuzzling against Kurt's hair, "I will always love you."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Logistics prevent me from having any first-hand idea of how it feels to have a hand close around your cock over your boxers, and since this is my first ever smut scene I do apologize for any and all inaccuracies (thank my beta [Sarah](http://hopingtobefree.tumblr.com) for convincing me to give it a try and for curing poor Blaine's twisting cock. or, you, know, blame her for it. depending.).


	16. Chapter 15

It's surprisingly hard, to have to spend a long weekend apart barely three days after they got back together again, and if Blaine hadn't intensely disliked Thanksgiving before he certainly does now. Because he feels like he's on cloud nine, feels like singing in the shower and dancing through the house, but he'll be damned if he tells his parents anything more personal than the date of his next final, let alone that he's started dating again. And so he doesn't - instead locks himself away in his room as often as is socially acceptable and tries to focus on his paper for Child Development, or even to just get some reading done.

He barely makes it two days.

11-23-2012 11:20- _Please tell me we can go for coffee tomorrow. Or today. Or, you know, right now._

11-23-2012 11:25- **That bad?**

11-23-2012 11:26- _Worse. My mum keeps fussing over me, and my dad HUGGED me._

11-23-2012 11:28- **...** _  
_11-23-2012 11:29- **Sounds like my dad and Carole. In that order.**

11-23-2012 11:32- _You don't understand. They never do this. It's awkward._  
11-23-2012 11:32- _I wish they would go back to ignoring me._  
11-23-2012 11:45- _Save me. Please?_

11-23-2012 11:49- **My dad needs me to run some errands with him but I should be able to make it by 3, if that works?**

11-23-2012 11:50- _Lima Bean? For old times' sake?_

11-23-2012 11:53- **You're a dork.**

11-23-2012 11:57- _I'll take that as a yes._

11-23-2012 12:05- _;_ **)** _  
_11-23-2012 12:06- **Love you.**

11-23-2012 12:06- _Love you too._

.

With a small sigh, Blaine puts down his phone and grabs a sweater before he makes his way downstairs. He kind of skipped breakfast, not too enthusiastic about the idea of sharing another meal with his parents, but he's pretty sure they will be out by now, visiting neighbors, or maybe his grandparents.

Admittedly, it hasn'tbeen as bad as he's made it out to be - although his dad's hug  _had_ been strange. As Gary had predicted, their parents seem to have genuinely missed him and Blaine isn't sure exactly how to handle it. Over the years, the three of them had come to some sort of agreement - they left him alone, and he left them alone, and it was an arrangement that had suited him just fine. But now they had been actively trying to involve him in the conversation, asking him about New York and his studies and his friends. Even if Blaine hadn't been raised to be the polite and well-mannered man he is, the looks on Gary's face had made sure that any putative thoughts of not participating in the conversation had flown straight out of the window, making Blaine strongly suspect his brother had something to do with their parents' sudden interest in him and his life. And although it had made dinner pass by just a little faster, it had made things a lot more awkward as well. Almost four years of non-communication tended to have that effect on people.

Blaine startles when he enters the kitchen, not expecting to find his dad sitting there, reading the paper at the kitchen table, and he has to resist the urge to turn around and go back up. He finally decides not too, though - his parents have invited him over, after all, and so he has as much a right to be here as they have.

Well, that, and he's hungry.

He mumbles a 'good morning' when he passes his dad -loud enough so as to be polite but not so loud as to invite a conversation- and makes his way to the fridge. There are still plenty of leftovers from Thanksgiving dinner, and Blaine takes out a couple of bowls, working in silence to prepare a cold lunch he can take upstairs with him.

"Did you sleep well?"

The unexpected question makes Blaine's head jerk up, and he has to fight to suppress the feeling of agitation at the mere fact that his dad has breached their unspoken agreement of silence once again. Things were so much easier when they didn't talk, he thinks not for the first time, but he can't not answer.

"I did," he replies, keeping his tone neutral. "Of course, it always takes getting used to sleeping away from home."

It comes out a little more defiantly than he intended it to, but his dad doesn't visibly react to the obvious implication.

"Glad to hear that," he says instead, not even looking up from his newspaper. "So, can we expect to see Kurt here this weekend? I hear you've started dating again."

Blaine blanches, and he only just manages to not drop the spoon he's holding. It's payback for his remark about 'home', he realizes immediately, and he makes a mental note to make it clear to Gary he does not appreciate him giving their dad ammunition like this.

"I don't think so," he says, determined not to let out how shocked he is, "he's very busy. But I'll be seeing him later today **;**  I will make sure to ask." He doesn't actually have any intention of bringing Kurt to see his parents, but his dad doesn't need to know that. "I'll let him know you said  **'** hi **'**."

"Please do."

With that, the conversation seems to be over, and before his dad can start a new topic of conversation Blaine quickly puts the foil back over the bowls, returning them to the fridge so he can grab his plate, anxious to get back to his room. But when he glances over at the man sitting behind the table, still reading the newspaper and looking as if the conversation they've just had is a daily occurrence, something stirs in him.

"You don't have to do this, you know," he blurts out, and he almost immediately wants to bite his tongue. Hadn't his goal been to  _minimize_ contact with his parents? But it's too late now.

"Do what?" his dad asks, looking up and sounding a little taken aback.

"This," Blaine gestures between the two of them. "Chit-chat. Pretending like you care."

"What makes you say I'm pretending?"

His dad has finally put down the paper, and there's a strange look in his eyes - curious, and honestly interested in Blaine's answer, but guarded, too, aware this is the closest to an actual conversation they've been in years, afraid he might blow it.

Or maybe that's Blaine reading into things too much.

"Because you've never cared before," he answers, because as harsh as it sounds, that's how it's always been, for Blaine. "Because I know you're really ashamed of me."

He feels strangely exposed when he sees his dad fold his arms, leaning back into his chair to look Blaine over, his head slightly cocked to the side, and for a split second he reminds Blaine of Kurt, the way he can seize a person up without really revealing what he thinks of them.

"You graduated from Dalton at the top of your class," his dad starts. "You applied to six universities and got into five of them. You'll be applying for the Honors Program next spring and are very likely to get accepted. You sing with a small cover band that has built a nice reputation for itself in only a short amount of time. You volunteer at your community center. You've recently started dating someone you care for deeply, and have cared for for a long time, someone who's already made an impression in the fashion world despite still being in school. I don't see any reason to be ashamed of you, Blaine, on the contrary."

To say Blaine is baffled would be an understatement. He knows Gary talks to their parents about him -of course he does-, but somehow he has always assumed those conversations don't go any further than 'Blaine's doing ok too'.

Apparently, they do.

Apparently, it makes his parents  _proud_ of him.

And it makes his blood boil.

Because how dare they - how dare they turn their backs on him when he fails, let him figure things out all by himself but then when he succeeds on his own account take the credit for it because look what a brilliant son they raised! They lost that right. They lost the right to be proud of him years ago.

"When I was sixteen I went behind everyone's backs and fucked a guy I didn't even know," he tells his dad, not even trying to hide the fact he's trying to shock him. "I was stupid enough not to use protection and even more stupid not to tell anyone who could've helped me. I got infected with HIV, bringing disgrace to my family who didn't even know I was gay. In addition to the medical costs incurred I forced my parents to pay for an expensive private boarding school and an extra year in high school because I got in too many fights at my old school. Just six months ago I had drunk, unprotected sex  _again_ , putting my then-boyfriend at risk of HIV infection because I'd been too much of a coward to tell him the truth before. I'd say there are plenty of reasons to be ashamed of me."

He's slightly out of breath by the time he finishes talking, and his dad seems to be as speechless as Blaine was two minutes ago, looking at Blaine as if he's not sure how to respond to that outburst, but Blaine simply stares back, defying him, daringhis dad to claim that what he has just said isn't true.

He doesn't.

With a huff of annoyance, Blaine takes his plate, making for the door to the hall. But he hasn't even made it halfway when his dad's voice makes him stop.

"I was 39 when I was told my youngest son was HIV positive," his dad says quietly behind him. "He seroconverted after unprotected sex with another boy. He had never even told us he was gay. Neither me nor my wife knew how to deal with his illness, and we were told not to make a fuss about it, that he would come to us when he wanted to talk. But just like he had never trusted us enough to tell us he was gay, he never came, never told us about the abuse he was going through at school. We only found out when it was too late. So when he asked us to transfer to another school we were happy to comply, happy there was finally something we could  _do_ for him. But even though his new school wasn't that far away, he rarely took the opportunity to come home. Instead of confronting him about it we let him do as he wanted, estranging him from us even more. I'd say there are plenty of reasons to be ashamed of  _us_ , too."

When Blaine turns around he sees his dad look up from where he was staring at his hands. He doesn't seem upset, or even remotely emotional, like he's just been reciting facts, but Blaine recognizes a mask when he sees one - he's been wearing one himself for the longest time.

"We failed, Blaine," his dad continues, looking straight at Blaine now. "We failed as parents by not providing you with an environment where you felt safe to come out. We failed as educators by not talking to you about sex when we knew you were at an age where you would want to experiment. We failed as counsellors by waiting for you to come to us instead of pro-actively talking to you ourselves. We failed. We know that. But when you don't reply to e-mails, when you never call back, when we need your brother to call in a personal favor to have you come home, ... there's only so much we can do. We're not asking for understanding, or even forgiveness, but I do want you to know we're not ashamed of you, no matter what mistakes you think you've made in the past. You're our son, and we will always -always- love you."

-o0o-

"... and then he just walked out of the room," Blaine says heatedly. "Not another word. Like, who does he even think he is?"

Recounting the story hasn't made him any calmer -on the contrary even- and Blaine's not even sure why he's so angry - because of his dad's words, or because of the confusion they've caused.

"Well, he's your dad," Kurt tells him, looking at him with raised eyebrows over the rim of his coffee cup. "Why is it so weird he'd love you?"

Blaine glares at him.

"Because it is. He just... he doesn't get to say that to me anymore, all right? He doesn't get to just not talk to me for four years and then tell me that."

"We didn't talk for months and I still get to tell you that," Kurt retorts.

"Years, Kurt," Blaine says stubbornly. " _Years_. Besides, that was different - we still talked."

"Not about the things that mattered."

It's all Blaine can do to shoot Kurt another glare though, and Kurt sighs.

"Blaine, you said yourself you kind of stopped talking to them as well, didn't you?"

"They started it," Blaine says, face still sour, and his indignation only intensifies when he sees how Kurt has to keep himself from bursting out laughing.

"So before you were mad at them for  _not_  talking to you and now you're mad because they  _are_  talking to you? Come on, Blaine, what are you even? Five? Haven't you thought that maybe they really want to make it up to you? That maybe they're sorry for what happened and they want to start over?"

"Whatever," Blaine says dismissively, rolling his eyes, "they're going to have to do better than some half-hearted apology and a Thanksgiving turkey dinner if that's what they want."

"Sounded sincere enough if you ask me," Kurt shrugs, leaning back in his chair. "And you kind of have to give them a chance too, you know?"

"Sjeesj - whose side are you even on?" Blaine spits out, slamming down his coffee on the table, though the soft thud of cardboard against formica hardly does anything to punctuate his words as it was supposed to. "You're my boyfriend, the least you can do is  _pretend_  to support me!"

Heads are turning but he couldn't care less, his attention focused on the man in front of him who, somehow, looks completely undisturbed by Blaine's outburst - and if he does look just the tiniest bit annoyed, it seems it is more directed at Blaine than at who it really should be: Blaine's parents.

"Blaine," Kurt starts, putting down his own coffee and folding his arms in front of him. "Do you remember the argument we had after your brother came to dinner? Do you remember I told you I felt silly for not being able to work past the whole HIV thing?"

"Of course I d- Kurt!"

Blaine leans forward, reaching out for Kurt, but when Kurt doesn't take his hand, he lets it fall limply on the table, palm facing upward, watching it unhappily before he turns back to Kurt.

"Kurt, I told you it took me  _years_ to really accept this, and sometimes I  _still_ struggle. So really, I understa-"

He lets the last words trail when he sees the way Kurt is watching him, his left eyebrow cocked judgmentally as he makes Blaine rethink his own words with that one single look.

"Kurt... ," he finally sighs, batting down his eyes as he settles back. "Kurt, they are my  _parents_."

"And that -what- gives them superpowers or something?" Kurt sneers, although there is no real venom in his voice. "Blaine, I really don't know what you expect from them, but as I understand it you've never even actually talked to them about this. Don't you think it's just a little bit unfair to demand they be perfectly supportive from day one? Seriously, how would you react if your straight teenage son told you he got HIV after a one night stand with an older man?"

The words cut deep, but even though Blaine knows Kurt has a point, he's not quite ready to admit it yet. Because the memories haven't changed: his mother's haunted look, his father's silence - they still happened, they still hurt, and the fact that those might have been understandable reactions doesn't change that. If anything, it only makes it hurt more.

He looks up when he feels Kurt's hand slide into his own, and he smiles weakly when Kurt gives it a gentle squeeze.

"I get it, Blaine," Kurt says, watching their hands as their fingers lace together. "I do. But I really think you should give your parents a chance. You've already lost four years with them, isn't that enough?"

But Blaine just shakes his head.

"It's not that simple," he says resignedly. "It's not like I got detention for being caught smoking pot under the bleachers or something, you know. This is... it's not that simple."

"I know," Kurt says, taking a deep breath. "I know."

There's a sudden sadness in Kurt's voice, but it's the apprehensive undertone laced with it that makes Blaine look up, and he feels his stomach drop when he realizes Kurt's not just referring to Blaine's parents.

"Have you..." he starts hesitantly, "have you told-"

"No."

Kurt bites his lip, and when Blaine catches his gaze he can see the tears start pooling in the other man's eyes. He immediately shuffles closer, placing his free hand on top of their intertwined fingers to give them a comforting squeeze.

"Hey - it's all right..."

"No, it's not!" Kurt exclaims. The sudden reaction makes him lose his self-control just long enough for a tear to escape and roll down his cheek, and Blaine reaches up to wipe it away with his thumb, but Kurt ignores the gesture. "It's not all right!" he snaps instead, getting increasingly worked up. "It's not! I'm... I'm supposed to be  _proud_ to be with you - and I am, I really am, but I- my dad- he's... he's still so angry with you. And I tried, Blaine, really, I tried to talk to him but he... and I... He won't listen. How can I ever tell him about us if he won't  _listen_  to me?"

"Kurt, we're only just back together, I really didn't expect you to tell him - it's fine..."

"It's not.  _fine_!" Kurt angrily swats at Blaine's hand when Blaine reaches up to try to comfort him, and his eyes are shooting daggers. "Stop saying that! You can't sit there and complain about the lack of support from  _your_ parents and then say it's  _fine_ when  _my_ dad acts like an ignorant asshole. It doesn't work like that!"

Even if Kurt doesn't elaborate on exactly what Burt has said about him this time, Blaine still has a pretty good idea. Kurt's voice can pierce through walls, especially when he gets worked up, and Blaine has unintentionally overheard more than one conversation between him and his dad. About filing complaint, about insurance issues, but mainly about how Burt doesn't want Kurt to see Blaine anymore, let alone share an apartment with him.

Blaine can't even bring himself to think about how Burt will react to the reality of Kurt and him dating again.

"He's just trying to protect you," he tries to soothe Kurt once more. "He doesn't want you to get hurt."

"I don't  _need_  protecting," Kurt huffs, looking up at Blaine indignantly. "I can take care of myself, thank you very much."

His face is red, his eyes puffy, and Blaine has never wished more that they weren't in a coffee shop in Lima, Ohio, because he would give anything to just be able to lean over to Kurt now, to take him in his arms and kiss the tears away. But they are, and he can't, and so he simply lifts their hands, quickly pressing his lips against Kurt's fingers.

"The fact that you don't need protection doesn't mean he doesn't want to give it to you," he says softly. "You're still his son."

"He saw the invitation," Kurt says abruptly, and Blaine feels his heart skip a beat. "He thinks it's some elaborate plot of yours to get people to pity you or something."

Blaine nods slowly. He'd gotten the invitation too, after all - of course he had. All Dalton alumni were invited to the yearly Dalton Christmas Spectacular fundraiser, aka Let's-Use-Charity-as-an-Excuse-to-Have-a-Big-Happy-Reunion. It is one of Dalton's oldest traditions, and fortunately a lot less stuffy than it sounds. Both Blaine and Kurt had attended previously, Blaine's favorite year being the one after he graduated when he could sit and eat but Kurt had still had to fulfill his duties as a Warbler and serve Blaine and his former classmates. Last year the theme had been 'Water', with several speakers from Doctors Without Borders and OSU about the importance of water as an economic commodity. The Warblers had strayed from their usual a cappella repertoire to include a song played on a water organ, and despite complaints that the only available drinking water that night had been tap water, the evening had been a success.

This year's theme, as it turned out, is HIV/AIDS.

"I didn't know, Kurt, I promise," Blaine pleads, even though he knows Kurt's not the one who needs convincing. "You know I would never lobby for something like that - not at Dalton, at least. I swear I was probably just as shocked as your dad was when I opened the envelope."

Kurt nods.

"I figured. But the... eh... the main speaker... she's from..."

"... HAPE," Blaine finishes the sentence for him, shooting Kurt an apprehensive smile. "Sun-ja Kim. She's... eh... she'll be my supervisor there, actually."

Kurt's lips part slightly, forming a small 'o'.

"That's a... coincidence."

"And I'm not sure it's a happy one, either," Blaine grimaces. "I mean, I haven't met her, and I'm kind of looking forward to hear her talk, learn about her vision on things, you know? But as I said I haven't met her yet, and I don't want to be rude and not introduce myself, but I also don't really want to have our first meeting under the eye of my former class mates and teachers. I won't be able to say what I want to say."

"Can't you just e-mail her?" Kurt asks. "Or call her? Kind of explain it to her?"

Blaine wobbles his head.

"Maybe. It's just... I haven't disclosed to them yet. And I kind of wanted to do that face to face, you know, not... not via mail, or something." He bites his lip, dropping his head in his head as he groans. "Urgh - why does this always have to be so complicated?"

"Hey - you'll figure it out," Kurt says comfortingly, rubbing Blaine's shoulder, and Blaine's about to say something sarcastic along the lines of 'yeah, well, easy for you to say', when he looks up and catches the look in Kurt's eyes.

It's support and trust, mixed with confidence and even a dash of pride, it's 'it'll be all right' and 'I'm here if you need me', and Blaine places his own hand over Kurt's, tilting his head and raising his shoulder so he can rest his cheek against their hands. He doesn't really say anything, but from the small smile on Kurt's face matching his own he can tell he doesn't have to - because 'you'll figure it out' really means ' _we'll_  figure it out' now, and that's all the reassurance Blaine needs to believe that that's exactly what they'll do.

They've figured out much, much worse before, after all.

 


	17. Chapter 16

Leaving Lima has always evoked conflicting feelings in Kurt. Because leaving Lima means going to New York, the city where his dreams, his friends, and now also his boyfriend are, and that never fails to put the biggest smile on Kurt's face. But it also means leaving his family and, more specifically, leaving his dad, and that in turn always makes Kurt's heart ache in ways he's not sure he'll ever get used to.

Or at least, that was how it always had been. Because right now Kurt couldn't be happier to be back in the car and back on the road - between Finn still being away on training and his dad's incessant stabs at Blaine -on Thanksgiving he'd expressed his gratitude about having a 'fit and healthy son'- Lima had never felt so suffocating, and not even Carole's famous banana split brownies had been able to lift the mood. Maybe that's why, when he turns onto the Anderson's driveway, he decides to simply honk rather than get out and ring the doorbell - even if Blaine had told him the Andersons had been delighted to hear about him and Blaine, one set of parents to deal with was more than enough to deal with right now.

Fortunately Blaine doesn't take long to come out, dragging his trolley behind him as he walks up to Kurt's car.

"Move," he grits between his teeth after he's dropped his luggage in the back seat and climbs in the front seat, although the smile doesn't disappear from his face when he returns the little wave his parents give him from where they're standing in the doorway.

"Gladly," Kurt replies, copying Blaine's smile and wave as he puts the car into gear and slowly pulls out of the driveway, and a final wave and honk later they're finally on the road to New York.

"Oh god I thought this weekend would never end!" Blaine sighs, dropping his head back against the headrest, and Kurt shoots him a sideways smile.

"That bad?"

"Not really," Blaine admits. "Just... tiring, I guess. It's like after that talk with my dad they feel like they need to convince me that they still care about me or something, that they're really ok with the whole thing. But then for example at dinner you can just feel the conflict - because how do they acknowledge me taking my meds without either pulling too much focus on it or making me feel like they're ignoring it? And suddenly everything I do or say becomes so...  _significant_. And then Ben and Gary left yesterday to go see Ben's sister so it was just me and them and it was just... it was tiring. Just really, really tiring."

"But they're trying, right?" Kurt asks, leaning a bit forward over the steering wheel to look left and right before turning onto the next street.

"I guess," Blaine says, but Kurt doesn't miss the skepticism in his voice, and he lashes out to give Blaine a soft smack against his knee, making Blaine jump.

"Ok ok, all right!" Blaine yelps indignantly. "They're trying! They're trying - no need to get violent here, I'll admit, they're trying."

"And what about you?" Kurt asks, shooting Blaine an investigating glance. "Are you trying?"

"Of course I am!" Blaine exclaims with an indignant tilt of his head, and when Kurt raises his eyebrows questioningly he quickly reiterates: "I am! I even asked them about the cat and everything!"

"The cat?" Kurt repeats, equal parts confused and amused and trying to keep himself from bursting out laughing, because exactly what  _a cat_  has to do with Blaine trying to fix things with his parents is less than clear to him.

" _Your_  cat," Blaine clarifies, sounding as if he, in turn, is confused Kurt doesn't see the link. "You said you wanted a cat, right? So I asked. If you could keep a cat."

"Right," Kurt drawls, unconvinced, "because obviously me taking a cat is the way to rebuild your relationship with your parents."

"Hey, I was talking to them right? Wasn't that the idea, that we become, like, this boring family who talks about mundane things like keeping cats on an apartment? You can, by the way. Keep a cat, I mean. If you still want to."

It's all Kurt can do to just roll his eyes, although he knows the grin that has appeared on his face is wide enough for Blaine to know he's not actually annoyed.

"Maybe," he says, because a cat actually does sound nice. If they can find one with short hair that doesn't shed too much and has already been potty trained, at least. "But that doesn't- what are you doing?"

He's cut himself off, distracted by Blaine who's dragging his hands all over his body, looking himself up and down as if he's searching for something.

"Trying to find my handkerchief," Blaine replies, speaking through his nose, continuing to pat his pockets and lifting his ass to try to feel whether he's put it in his back pocket instead.

"I have some in my bag," Kurt says with a head nod before he shoots Blaine a worried look. "Are you getting sick?"

"It's a  _cold_ , Kurt," Blaine says as he retrieves Kurt's bag from the back seat, sounding just a little annoyed although his smile is warm and loving when Kurt catches his eye. "It's the end of November, half of the population in the Northern hemisphere is sniffing away right now, so don't look at me like that. Oh - here, you got a text."

He holds up the phone to Kurt as he pulls out the pack of tissues, but Kurt shakes his head.

"I'm driving, Blaine," he says. "Who's it from?"

"Nick," Blaine says, putting the phone down for a moment to blow his nose before he picks it back up. "He's... they're going to the bar tonight, he's asking if we want to come?"

Kurt scrunches his nose as he contemplates the idea.

"Karaoke?" he asks, and when Blaine nods he continues. "What time? Who's coming?"

"Nine," Blaine replies, "and so far Nick, Rachel, and Jeff. And us, maybe."

"We shouldn't," Kurt says with a glance at the clock on his dashboard. It's barely ten and they've only just left Kenton, which means they still have a solid ten hour trip in front of them.

"We really shouldn't," Blaine agrees, but when Kurt looks aside, they both burst out laughing - neither of them has ever passed up an opportunity to sing for an audience, and they won't start now.

"Tell him we'll be there," Kurt says, still chuckling, and as he pushes the gas pedal in a bit deeper he sends Blaine a cheeky wink. "Tell him we both have a lot of feelings that need expressing."

.

Between a little more traffic on the road than anticipated and Kurt insisting on taking a shower before they head out it's well past 9.30 by the time they finally make it to the bar. They quickly drop off their coats in the cloak room, but as they enter the bar, Blaine pulls Kurt back for a moment.

"What-" Kurt starts, but he's cut off by Blaine's lips on his and he lets the question unfinished, giving in to the kiss instead, fisting Blaine's shirt to pull him in just a little closer.

"What was that for?" he smiles when Blaine finally breaks the kiss, and Blaine shrugs, looking down in embarrassment about his own spontaneity, although his eyes are sparkling.

"Nothing," he says, pursing his lips. "I just... could."

It's all Kurt can do to just smile back at him, turning around fully so he can wrap his arms around Blaine.

"Oh, could you, now?" he asks teasingly, his smile only growing bigger when Blaine takes the challenge, snaking his own arms around Kurt's waist.

"I most certainly could," he confirms, "in fact, I did.  _In fact_ , I could do even more."

"Oh really?"

"Really," Blaine says confidently, pulling Kurt in a little closer, and the cheeky, hungry look in his eyes sends shivers down Kurt's spine. "For example, I could wrap my arms around you and not let you go all evening. I could get up on that stage and sing a love song to you, and I could tell everyone I sang it for you." He pauses, biting his lip as if he's contemplating whether or not to continue. "Or I could take you home and just  _show_  you what other things I could do."

The last words instantly turn the butterflies in Kurt's belly into liquid heat, and he feels his mouth go dry as he looks into Blaine's eyes, cursing himself for having taken so long to sort himself out, although he's sure he's never been more grateful he never gave up the fight in the first place.

"Yes," he whispers as he leans in for another kiss, "yes to all of that."

But then he steps back, pulling Blaine along with him, laughing at the dazed expression on his face.

"Come on, mr. I'm-not-very-good-at-romance," he grins, "I believe your plan for tonight included some serenading, did it not?"

He's so focused on Blaine that he doesn't really take notice of the looks on their friends' faces until they're standing right in front of their usual booth. Nick is sitting in the middle, grinning broadly, with next to him Thad and Rachel, who are staring at Kurt and Blaine inquisitively, and Jeff, who is looking inexplicably unhappy. But it's Mercedes who really gets to Kurt - not just because he didn't expect her to be there -although really he could've done with a word of warning- but also because she has the most curious expression on her face, equal parts discomfort and elation. Kurt has no interest in trying to figure it out however - even if in some twisted way she's the one responsible for him and Blaine getting back together, he hasn't forgotten what she said or did, and as such it's bad enough that she's here in the first place; he's not planning on ruining his night before it's even started by wasting his energy on her.

"Well, hello boys!" Nick pulls Kurt out of his reverie, the flicker in his eyes much too bright and the look at Kurt and Blaine's intertwined hands much too poignant. "How are you doing on this wonderful winter evening?"

"We are... fine," Blaine answers, shooting a confused glance at Kurt, but Kurt just shrugs - he's usually pretty good at reading Nick, but he has no idea what's gotten into him right now.

"Care to elaborate on that little display of affection you treated us with just now?" Nick continues innocently, and the unexpected remark immediately brings a bright blush to Kurt's cheeks. From the corner of his eye he can see the same thing happening to Blaine, and he squeezes his hand for support as he lifts his chin and forces his heartbeat to slow down.

"What of it?" he asks as coyly as he can manage. "Since when can't I kiss my boyfriend in public anymore?"

He expected a reaction -of course he expected a reaction, they way he and Blaine have been dancing around each other for the last couple of months hasn't exactly been a secret- but he didn't quite expect the amount of cheering and hooting that erupts in front of him. He definitely didn't expect Nick to high five Mercedes and then hold out his hands to the people on either side of him.

"Come on!" Nick says cheerfully, wiggling his fingers. "Pay up! I'd say 'hate to say I told you so' but I'm not. Even though I did."

He laughs, and both Kurt and Blaine are left speechless as Rachel, Thad, and Jeff all pull out their wallets and slap a few bills into Nick's hands, and it takes Kurt a few moments to understand what is going on.

"You... you were betting on us getting back together?" he asks, incredulous, and Nick immediately raises his hands in defense.

"Hey, I'm a poor college student, if I get a chance to earn an extra buck why not take it?"

"Earning money by betting on your friends' love life," Kurt says, unimpressed, raising his eyebrows as judgmentally as he can. "Classy, Nick. Real classy."

"At least it shows I had confidence in the two of you," Nick shrugs unapologetically as he counts down the money in his hands and divides it into two neat piles. "Miss Goldstar Bossypants over there didn't think you'd even make it this year."

He nods at Rachel, who shoots him an evil glare before turning her attention to Kurt and Blaine.

"What he's saying is that I was partial to the idea the two of you would get together with a New Year's kiss," she declares. "You have to admit it would have been an awfully romantic moment - the two of you under the starry sky, looking into each other's eyes as you realize your undying love for each other and the opportunities a new year will bring and ... " She suddenly cuts her own swooning ramble off, apparently aware of the way everyone is staring at her, and she takes a deep breath before she continues resolutely. "But of course I am extremely happy you found each other sooner."

Jeff mumbles something unintelligible at that, and Nick gives him a playful shoulder shove, winking at Kurt and Blaine.

"Never mind this guy - he betted on December," he grins, and much to Kurt's astonishment he passes half of the bills in his hands to Mercedes. "But we knew it wouldn't take them that long, didn't we, Mercedes?"

"Just one week," Jeff says unhappily to no one in particular, gazing longingly at the small stack of bills that passes right in front of him. "Couldn't they just remain blissfully ignorant for one more week? I'm saving up for a new camera..."

"Aawww, poor Jeffie," Mercedes coos, throwing an arm around him and pressing a kiss against his temple. "Tell you what, drink's on me tonight, all right?"

Jeff perks up a little at that, and Mercedes beams at him, but when she looks up and accidentally catches Kurt staring her smile immediately falters and she bats down her eyes, though whether it's out of embarrassment or any other sentiment Kurt can't tell.

Not that he  _cares_.

"This calls for a song!" Nick exclaims, slapping his hands down on the table, and the invitation is met with instant approval of the others. "Go on, love birds - on the dance floor with you!"

Nick shoos Kurt and Blaine back as he gets up, sending Kurt pressed back against Blaine's chest, and it's all Kurt can do to let Blaine wrap his arm around him and relax in the touch as he watches their little group of friends dance their way up to the stage, loudly discussing which song they will pick. Thad smiles back over his shoulder, giving them two thumbs up, Jeff ruffles his hand through Blaine's hair as he passes them, and Rachel gives them a small wave as she climbs on the stage. The only one who doesn't look back is Mercedes, who's either incredibly occupied with the song choice or trying very hard to look as if she is.

"Are you ok?" Blaine whispers in Kurt's ear, and Kurt sighs. It's supposed to be a happy night for them - and it is, even though Kurt still couldn't believe their friends had actually been betting on them getting back together; he would definitely have a word with Nick about that. But really, it was kind of cute in an endearing sort of way, and to see them all be genuinely happy for them -even Jeff, who was bouncing up and down on the stage now- means more to him than he had expected it too. Which is why he really doesn't want to taint that by talking about how one of his best friends is really a homophobic idiot. Then again - they haven't even said a word to each other yet and already the awkwardness between them is threatening to suffocate him.

"Yeah," he finally replies resignedly. "Just... Mercedes. I'm not sure if I'll be able to remain civil to her for the rest of the night."

"Well, she apparently betted in favor of us, so that should earn her some credit, no?" Blaine says, and Kurt immediately turns around in his arms, glad that Blaine noticed that too.

"Seriously, what was up with that?" he asks heatedly. "She never even pretended to support us getting back together and then she pulls that? I mean, really?"

"Maybe you just misunderstood what she meant," Blaine shrugs, but Kurt starts shaking his head vehemently.

"Even if I misinterpreted her complete lack of support as, well, a complete lack of support, I sure as hell didn't misinterpret what she said to me last week. You weren't there, Blaine, you don't know what she said! I mean - forget ignorant, it was just plain rude! It was one stupid thing after another and I can't-"

"Yes, you can," Blaine interrupts him, raising his arms to grab Kurt by his upper arms and make him look back at him. "It's just prejudice, Kurt, that's all it is."

If it were any other time Kurt would have probably laughed -he's heard Blaine's little speech about prejudice once too often already- but all he manages now is a glare and an eye roll. But when Blaine raises an eyebrow and shoots him a questioning look, he sighs.

"Prejudice is just ignorance," he recites dutifully, making it sound as monotonous and boring as possible. "Kurt."

Immediately Blaine's jaw drops in confusion, and despite himself Kurt can't keep in a chuckle. He doesn't wait until Blaine has recovered enough to reply, though, and instead steps back, making use of the break in the conversation to drag Blaine along with him.

"Come on, I'm pretty sure Nick doesn't want to start without us."

Sure enough Nick's already standing on stage, pointing at them as they make their way to the middle of the dance floor.

"So this song is dedicated to those two love birds over there, I'm sure you all know them... Kurt, Blaine - I'm so happy you finally came to your senses and saw what we've seen all along: that you're made for each other. Now grab each other tight, this one's for you guys."

Applause erupts around them as the music starts up, and Kurt has to fight not to bury his face in Blaine's neck in embarrassment. They are in fact fairly well known in the bar, at least by the regulars, and so he knows most of the noise is really for  _them_ , and not just the patrons being polite and indulging Nick. But with Blaine smiling as brightly at him as he is, Kurt really can't mind, and he gladly wraps his arms around Blaine's neck.

 __[Lover lover talk to me](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0M5G6U78fOw)  
We've both been here before  
Takes a lot of time to see  
You need less to become more  
Not this time...

"So what was up with that 'Kurt' thing?" Blaine asks curiously as they start swaying, and Kurt smiles, both at the question and at the memory.

"You told me ' _Prejudice is just ignorance. Kurt._ '," he says melancholically. "You said my name at the end of that sentence. I would know - that was the first time I heard you say my name."

The little confession makes Blaine pull back and stare at Kurt in surprise for a moment, but when he starts smiling Kurt can't help but smile back, and he doesn't protest when Blaine pulls him in closer.

"Well.  _Kurt_.," Blaine says, cradling Kurt in his arms, his intonation and timbre so eerily similar to the way he'd said Kurt's name that first day they met that it makes shivers run down Kurt's spine the same way now as it had then. "I stand by what I said. Prejudice is ignorance. But ignorance doesn't equal stupidity. One is intentional, while the other is not."

 _Oh lord - seems the best is yet to come  
Oh lord -  _seems_ the best is yet to come  
Screaming it out, boy, screaming it out  
Oh lord -  _seems__ the best is yet to come

Their friends are singing their lungs out, but Kurt barely hears it anymore, the romantic atmosphere dissipated as soon as Blaine had restarted the conversation about Mercedes, and he rolls his eyes.

"That's all very nice, Ghandi," he says sarcastically, "but really I don't care whether it was intentional or not, it hurt just as bad."

"I know," Blaine concedes with a tilt of his head, "but do you remember what you told me after group? How you thought I should stand up and help people outside of group to understand?"

Kurt nods, although what Blaine's support group has to do with Mercedes' behavior isn't really clear to him.

"I'm not the only one who can stand up," Blaine continues. "And what Mercedes needs right now is not a lecture about how wrong she is, what she needs is a friend who explains to her  _why_  she is wrong. What she needs-  _who_  she needs, is  _you_."

But Kurt just huffs, shaking his head.

"You really expect me to go talk to her? Make nice and forgive and forget? No way, Blaine. Just- no way. Not happening. I demand an apology and it better be a good one."

 _Lover please don't lose yourself_  
And don't let your promise die  
'Cause you don't now how and you don't know when  
There's nowhere left to hide

"Just two months ago you didn't want to kiss me."

Kurt's head snaps up at that and he glares at Blaine, because even if he is telling the truth Kurt doesn't really like to be reminded of that period.

"I apologized for that," he says, a little reluctant. "And I've changed since then."

"And why's that?" Blaine asks innocently, and even though Kurt sends him his most intimidating look he knows Blaine's going to make him say it anyway.

"Because we talked," he concedes unwillingly.

"Because we talked. Because you started looking things up. Because you came to group with me. Because you were  _informed_. Look, Kurt - if you talk to her and she still stands by what she said then by all means go ahead and yell at her. But you have to give her a chance. Believe it or not but it's not that hard to remain oblivious about these things, even in this day and age: from what you told me I doubt McKinley had so much as a remotely decent sex ed program, and our parents' generation grew up with a very different view on HIV/AIDS. Honestly I'm more disappointed in David - because he certainly  _does_  know better."

Blaine takes a deep breath, glancing around before he returns his attention to Kurt.

"As tempting as it is - being better informed doesn't make you better than anyone else. It just makes you better informed. So until you know why Mercedes said what she said and did what she did don't judge her too hard, because I'm pretty sure that's going to have the opposite effect of what you want to achieve."

It's all Kurt can do to give Blaine an indignant huff.

"She still cheated," he says stubbornly, so caught up in his annoyance that he misses a few steps, but Blaine is quick enough to catch them and keep them from falling.

 _Lover lover talk to me_  
We've both been here before  
Takes a lot of time to see  
You need less to become more  
All this time, evening cries  
With no words, no words...

"Yes, well, I think that's really something between her, Sam, and David," Blaine continues as soon as they've found their rhythm again, "but whether she breaks up with Sam or with David, she's going to need her best friend."

"Of course," Kurt says sarcastically, "she screws up and I can help her pick up the pieces."

But Blaine just raises his eyebrows.

"Well, if you can't count on your friends when you screw up, what do you have them for?"

"You do realize I'm not one of your support group friends, do you?" Kurt retorts accusingly, because really, what else can he say to that? But when Blaine bursts out laughing he can't help but grin along.

"Come here," Blaine says, pressing a kiss against Kurt's temple as he pulls him in closer again, "let's just enjoy this, shall we?"

 _Oh lord - _seems_  the best is yet to come  
Oh lord -  _seems_ the best is yet to come  
Screaming it out, boy, screaming it out  
Oh lord -  _seems__ the best is yet to come

.

"Can I have a Coke Zero and a water, please?"

Kurt smiles where he's leaning against the bar, staring longingly as the bartender prepares his drinks -one for energy, one for hydration-, but when he takes out his wallet to pay he feels a soft pressure against his arm.

"Leave it, drink's on me this time," a soft voice tells him, and Kurt looks aside to find Mercedes smiling at him. It's not her signature confident smile, but it confounds Kurt enough for him to take a step back, and let her pay.

"Here," Mercedes says after she's pocketed the change, as she hands over the glasses to Kurt, "and congratulations. I knew you guys would make it sooner or later."

"Did you?" Kurt blurts out, unable to stop himself, and Mercedes freezes where she'd been turning around to walk away. "Tell me, when were those bets placed? Because if I remember correctly three weeks ago you were still trying to talk me out of it."

Mercedes swallows, eyes darting around before they finally settle on Kurt, and if Kurt hadn't been so preoccupied by the whole situation he might have seen how much effort it cost his friend to reply to his question.

"I wasn't trying to talk you out of it," she says quietly, "I was just trying to make sure you knew what you were getting yourself into. I knew you'd end up with Blaine again, even before you said with so many words that that's what you wanted. I just... worried. I think it's really great you still manage to trust Blaine enough to, like, be in a relationship with him. It's just... it's just something I don't think I could ever do."

"Not even for David?" Kurt sneers, although he immediately regrets it when he sees the flash of hurt that crosses Mercedes' face.

"Look, Kurt, ..." she starts, glancing down at the ground, and Kurt can practically  _see_  her steel herself before she looks back up, her jaw set and any of the warmth that had been in her eyes previously gone. "David's not my boyfriend. He never has been, and he never will be. It was bad enough coming clean to Sam over Skype of all things, I would really appreciate it if you would give me a break on this one. And not that it's any of your business, but if it makes you feel any better I haven't seen or heard from David since last week."

Kurt huffs as Mercedes turns away, because even if he still thinks she made a massive mistake in sleeping with David, his real beef with her lays somewhere completely different.

"Well, thanks for the info, I guess," he says condescendingly, "although that wasn't really my main concern."

"It wasn't?" Mercedes snaps in mock surprise, spinning around to face him. "Because last week you sure didn't hesitate to judge me for it!"

"I was judging you for not using condoms!" Kurt retorts heatedly, barely able to believe that seemed to have flown completely over Mercedes' head. "I was judging you for saying that only gay guys can get HIV!"

"I never said that!"

Mercedes spits out the words, looking so genuinely shocked and insulted that it's all Kurt can do not to burst out laughing.

"You said you didn't have to worry about condoms and HIV because David isn't gay! You said you weren't like Blaine! How the hell am I supposed to interpret that any differently?"

Kurt's positively shouting now, and he's never been happier that they're in a loud bar, because this really isn't an argument he would have chosen to have in public.

"I said we weren't like Blaine because Blaine didn't know the guy he had that- that- that one night stand with!" Mercedes shouts back. "David and I we know each other, we know we can trust each other! And David never had sex with another man so it didn't matter anyway!"

"W-whát?!" Kurt blurts, baffled, sure he's missing some vital piece of information. "What does that even have to do with anything?"

"Because women can't pass the virus, can they?" Mercedes declares haughtily, and Kurt can see she actually means it. "HIV is passed with sperm and women don't have sperm so they can get it but they can't pass it on - seriously, Kurt, I thought you did your research on this."

She folds her arms, cocking her head as she looks at Kurt who is momentarily stupefied.

"Mercedes - that's- that's not how it goes," he finally manages, "there are virus particles in all body fluids - blood, sperm, ... and vaginal fluids."

But Mercedes simply raises a skeptical eyebrow.

"So? You really expect me to believe that vaginal fluids can like, make their way into a guy's body? Like... like  _into_  their dick? Through that tiny hole?"

"Eh... yeah?" Kurt tells her. "Or there could be little wounds if you've been too rough or haven't used enough lube and it could enter through there. And even if it couldn't - anyone could have it since birth, or through contaminated blood products, or from intravenous drug use, ... Mercedes, you can't seriously tell me you didn't know any of that."

Mercedes huffs disbelievingly, and it isn't until she sees the way Kurt keeps staring at her, spreading his arms, that she seems to realize that Kurt's not joking around, and her face falls. And that's when Kurt understands that, in fact, she didn't know; that Blaine had been right and that Mercedes had honestly and truly believed she hadn't been doing anything wrong. For some strange reason, that suddenly makes the whole situation ten times worse.

" 'Cedes..." he says softly, reaching out, but Mercedes steps back, out of his reach, wrapping her arms more tightly around herself, shaking her head as if she's trying to get rid of a really bad memory.

"No," she says determinedly. "No. That- that can't be right. David- he... he can't... Kurt, David can't- he's not-"

But when she looks back up at Kurt, he can see she doesn't really believe her own words. They both know David, they both know how much of a Don Juan he can be. They both know that if condoms weren't a priority when David was with Mercedes, they most likely weren't a priority when he was with anyone else either. And even though Kurt still wants to yell at Mercedes, still wants that apology, he knows that it hardly matters right now. Because Blaine was right: a lecture is the last thing she needs right now.

"Look, Mercedes," he starts again, but Mercedes shakes her head.

"I've got to go home," she says distractedly, turning around. "I've got to... I've got to think."

"Mercedes!"

Kurt only just manages to grab her arm, and it takes him a few seconds to remember what he was going to say; the panic and desperation that are written all across Mercedes' face hitting a little too close to home.

"Mercedes," he finally manages. "Just... get tested, ok? I can- I can go with you, if you want. Or not, you know... It's probably nothing, anyway. But just... get tested, all right? Just to make sure?"

Mercedes' eyes widen when the real meaning of what Kurt's just said sinks in, as if she only now realizes exactly what their conversation was about and what it could mean for her.

"I'm really just a stupid girl, am I not?" she says self-deprecatingly, stepping back. "I'm just a stupid, silly, cheating girl. That's all I'm ever gonna be."

"Mercedes - no!" Kurt tries, because that wasn't quite what he had been going for, but his words lack power and Mercedes huffs, pulling herself free from Kurt's grip.

"I've got to go," she repeats dully. "I just... I just have to go, now."

And before Kurt can react she's gone, disappeared through the doors to the cloak room.

"I take it that didn't go too well?"

Blaine appears beside Kurt and Kurt sighs, closing his eyes as he lets his head rest against Blaine's shoulder.

"I don't know," he says honestly, suddenly feeling very tired. "It definitely didn't go any way I had expected it to, that's for sure."

"You don't seem to be as angry anymore, though," Blaine remarks carefully, shooting Kurt an investigating look, but Kurt shrugs, shaking his head as he straightens himself again.

"I'm still pretty angry," he says, even though even he can hear how unconvincing it sounds. "I mean, I still want my apology. But I feel like I don't really have the right to be angry anymore, if that makes sense?"

"Not everything is black or white."

"Nope," Kurt sighs. "It isn't. There's a whole range of greys out there. And don't even get me started on all the colors."

He feels more than he sees how Blaine lets out a small chuckle and he takes a step forward, making himself as small as he can so as to fit in Blaine's arms.

"I should probably run after her," he mumbles against Blaine's neck. In reality it's the last thing he wants to do now, but Kurt remembers all too well how he felt, those first couple of days after Blaine had disclosed, and despite everything Mercedes has said and done, he doesn't want her to have to go through it alone.

"You should probably give her some time alone now and come home with me," Blaine counters. "It's been a long day for the both of us, you should get some rest. Call her tomorrow."

"Coming home with you?" Kurt asks, going for playful although it really comes out more tired than anything else, and he abandons his attempt at flirting. "Your room or mine?"

"Mine," Blaine says determinedly, and when Kurt raises a skeptical eyebrow he quickly adds: "It's got the better view."

"It's also got the smaller bed," Kurt laments, mentally comparing his queen-size bed with Blaine's double, but to his surprise Blaine starts grinning.

"Exactly."

-o0o-

11-25-2012 23:44- _Finn!  
_ 11-25-2012 23:45- _Finn!_  
11-25-2012 23:45- _FINN!  
_ 11-25-2012 23:47- _FIIIIIINNNNNNNNN!_

11-25-2012 23:50-... **Rachel?**

11-25-2012 23:52- _Finn, I've got the best news EVER!_

11-25-2012 23:54- **Did you get the lead in that school musical? Because if it's not that I'm sure it can wait until morning.**

11-25-2012 23:54- _It's not the school musical, it's the NYADA recital.  
_ 11-25-2012 23:55- _And no it's not that._

11-25-2012 23:59- **So?**

11-25-2012 00:00- _So what?_

11-25-2012 00:02- **So what is the best news ever?**

11-25-2012 00:02- _Oh.  
_ 11-25-2012 00:02- _Kurt and Blaine are back together!_

11-25-2012 00:09- **Ah.**

11-25-2012 00:09- _'Ah'?! That's all you've got to say to that? 'Ah'? Finn, Kurt and Blaine are back together!_

11-25-2012 00:12- **That's... nice, Rachel.**

11-25-2012 00:14- _That's wonderful, Rachel. That's great, Rachel. Congratulate Kurt and Blaine from me, Rachel.  
_ 11-25-2012 00:15- _A little enthusiasm wouldn't hurt, you know?_

11-25-2012 00:19- **Look, Rachel, it's great, it really is, but I've been crawling through the mud all day, it's past eleven, and I've gotta get up at 5 for even more mud crawling.  
** 11-25-2012 00:27- **Rachel?  
** 11-25-2012 00:27- **Rachel don't be like that.  
** 11-25-2012 00:28- **Rachel come on.  
** 11-25-2012 00:41- **Look, I'll call you tomorrow, ok? Tell my brother I'm happy for him.  
** 11-25-2012 00:41- **Good night. Love you xxx**

11-26-2012 01:43- _Love you too xxxxxxxxxx_


	18. Chapter 17

"Heard anything from her yet?"

Kurt jumps, immediately putting away his cell phone - so far for trying to check for new messages inconspicuously...

"No," he says, a little unwillingly. Really, he shouldn't be this worried about someone who, for all intents and purposes, had insulted his boyfriend and his relationship multiple times. "No, she's not replying to any of my messages."

And it bugs him more than he thought it would.

Because insult or not, Mercedes is still his friend, and for her to shut him out at a time where he  _knows_  she needs someone, where he  _knows_  she doesn't have many, if any, other people to be there for her - it hurts. It hurts and it worries him but most of all it makes him feel powerless, and if there's something that Kurt Hummel doesn't take well to, it's feeling powerless.

"Come here," Blaine tells him, pulling him closer and lifting his hand to rub his thumb over Kurt's cheek. "Give her some time, ok? She'll be fine, you'll see - she's got the odds in her favor."

But Kurt huffs.

"Yeah, that's what Katniss said, too."

"Hey, when did you become such a pessimist?" Blaine smiles, prodding him. "She'll be  _fine_. She's just got a lot to deal with and think about right now, so just give her some space, she'll come around... Meanwhile..." He spins Kurt around so that he ends up at Blaine's side with Blaine's arm draped loosely around his shoulder. "... why don't you stop worrying for five minutes and help me decide which one of these will be our new housemate."

There are cats  _everywhere_. Which makes sense, since they're standing in the middle of the cat house of their local shelter, but still Kurt feels a little overwhelmed by the sheer amount of animals surrounding them. Black cats, white cats, big cats, small cats, young, playful cats and old, lazy, sleeping cats: cats in every size, shape, and color imaginable, and Kurt has no idea how on earth he's supposed to pick just one. Not that he has any ambition of taking home more than that - the combined smell of the animals surrounding him is overwhelmingly sharp and poignant, and about as far as possible from how Kurt would want his apartment to smell.

"Well," he says, trying to sound decisive. "I want an adult, short-haired, queen. How hard can it be?"

"Peace of cake, surely," Blaine agrees, sinking down on the ground to pet what looks like an immense ball of hair with two ears and a tail. "I just demand it's potty-trained."

"Right..." Kurt drawls, watching Blaine and his new friend for a bit before he lets eyes roam around the room, mentally assessing every animal he sees. Too young, too fat, too old, too ugly, ... despite the large number there's not a single animal that he feels particularly drawn to - until he spots a pitch black, lazy-looking cat lying on top of one of the many cat towers spread around the room.

"Hi there, sweetie," he says with a soft smile as he walks over, squatting down so he can more easily rub behind its ears, and the animal immediately leans into the touch. "Who are you, now?"

He reaches for the collar, giggling because the animal keeps trying to butt its head into Kurt's hand as he tries to get a hold of the name tag. But when he finally manages to keep the tag still for long enough to be able to read the name he sighs.  _Molly._ As sweet as the cat seems -she's actually started purring now- there is just no way he can get away with keeping a cat with such a dramatically un-fabulous name as Molly.

He's distracted from Molly by another cat who's started an attempt to climb on his lap. It's a beautiful animal, big and orange with a dark stripe running all the way across its spine, and before Kurt can do anything to stop it it has already draped itself over his leg, sniffing curiously at the fabric.

"Got yourself a friend?" Blaine quips, still playing with the furry ball on his lap, and Kurt frowns.

"I'm not sure," he says, looking down at the Garfield look-a-like that's started kneading its paws against his thigh. "For one, I'm pretty sure it's a tomcat, and-  _outch!_ " He hisses in pain, wrapping his hands around the cats front paws, quickly pulling them forward and then up. "And he's ruining my pants!"

Immediately Blaine starts laughing and Kurt doesn't hesitate to send him a dirty look before he pushes the fashion-hating animal away from him, not really bothering to see where it lands -on its feet, he has no doubt-, anxiously inspecting the fabric of his trousers instead. There's one or two loops sticking out that were most definitely not there this morning and he curses inwardly. It's nothing he can't fix, but repairing his brand new pants had most definitely not been on his planning for the night.

"If he hated my clothes so much he could've just told me," he tells Blaine indignantly, walking back to him. "Why do I always attract the feisty ones and you get the calm ones?"

Sure enough the animal on Blaine's lap is the poster picture of relaxation, clearly enjoying the attention Blaine is given him, and by the time Kurt makes it over to Blaine it has even turned itself on its back, head dangling over Blaine's knees and legs pawing aimlessly in the air as Blaine rubs its belly, his fingers all but disappearing completely in the long, greyish-white fur. It looks incredibly soft, and unable to resist Kurt reaches out, intending to rub the animal behind its ears, but before he can do so his wrist is captured in a strong embrace and subjected to a gentle but thorough cleaning.

"His name is Mael," a young but confident voice tells them, seemingly out of nowhere, and they look up to find a small, blond boy looking at them from the doorway. He can't be any older than 13, but from his posture and his tone Kurt can tell that he knows his way around here. "We think he's part Maine Coon or something, and that's why his hair is so long. He was brought in last week, and he's only six months, but he's really sweet. He loves attention but he doesn't  _need_  it, so it's ok if you're out during the day for work or classes."

"Oh but we're not-" Kurt starts, but Blaine talks right over him.

"Has he been castrated?" he asks, ignoring Kurt's murderous look, and the boy nods.

"All of our cats are neutered," he says matter-of-factly. "They've also been tested for feline leukemia and they have a microchip in case they get lost or something."

"Blaine," Kurt says urgently, his internal panick only increasing when he sees the way Blaine is smiling down at the animal in his lap, "we are _not_ taking this cat! Firstly, he's a he. Secondly, he's too young, too hairy, and too big!"

"Actually," the blond boy interrupts him, "he's not that big yet. As I said he's only six months, he'll probably grow a bit further still."

"Exactly!" Kurt tells him gratefully before he turns back to Blaine who hasn't stopped petting Mael for even a second. "Blaine, do you have any idea just how much hair this cat is gonna shed come spring? Right when I'll be working on my designs for the Easter show? There will be hair  _everywhere_! We are not. taking. this cat!" But when he stops to catch his breath Blaine makes use of the small pause to flash a wide grin at him, his eyes sparkling and knowing, and Kurt lets out a frustrated sigh. He knows that grin and even worse - he knows what that grin does to him. So does Blaine. "You're gonna make me take this cat aren't you?"

"Yes, I am," Blaine winks, raising his eyebrows and pouting his lips as he points his chin at the animal on his lap. "Just look at how cute he is! And he loves you already!"

Blaine's right - at least if the red spot on Kurt's wrist where Mael has been licking at for the past three minutes is any indication. But Kurt can't surrender that easily.

"This is not what we agreed on, Blaine," he starts, but then Blaine looks up at him, and he freezes. "Thát- is not fair."

"What isn't?" Blaine smiles innocently, batting his eyelashes at Kurt which only serves to further emphasize the puppy look in his eyes. "Kurt, he's sweet, and handsome, and he doesn't claw at your new pants, and his name is Mael!"

"It means 'prince'," the boy in the doorway supplies, and Kurt sends him a murderous look, because Blaine and his puppy eyes are making a strong enough case already, they most certainly don't need the boy on their side as well.

"Yes!" Blaine exclaims. "Prince Mael! Seriously - how cool a name is that?"

It  _is_  a pretty cool name, Kurt has to admit, but he's still not quite convinced.

"Come on, Kurt," Blaine pleads, obviously picking up on Kurt's reservations. "How can you resist all that fluffiness? And look at it this way - whenever he does something wrong you'll be able to blame me for it, because I'm the one that picked him."

Now  _there's_  an argument Kurt can get behind.

"You would have to brush him every day," he says sternly, and Blaine nods much too enthusiastically, eyes sparkling. "If he sprays on my couch I'll hold you personally responsible." Another nod, another sparkle, and Kurt lifts his chin. "And if he ever - _ever_ \- touches any of my designs, you will manually remove each and every single cat hair from them. Understood?"

"Understood," Blaine nods gravely, clearly fighting to keep from bouncing up and down as he awaits Kurt's verdict.

"You really want this cat, don't you?" Kurt asks. He's stalling, and he knows it. Blaine knows it too, judging from the eager sparkle in his eye, and once again Kurt sighs. He's going to regret this as soon as they come home, he knows, but seeing Blaine as enthusiastic as he is... _  
_

"All right then," he says resignedly, and before he's even finished talking Blaine's already slung himself around his neck.

" _Thank you_!" he sing-songs, and then grabs Mael and lifts him over his head. "You hear that, buddy? We're gonna be  _roomies_!"

-o0o-

Although Mael makes it extensively clear he does _not_ like subways, the three of them make it back to the apartment in one piece, and Blaine doesn't even bother to take off his jacket before he takes Mael to the living room.

"Close the bedroom doors before you let him out!" Kurt shouts after him as he shrugs off his jacket, but even as he says the words he can see Blaine open the cardboard carrier the shelter had provided them with.

"Blaine!" he admonishes as he moves towards the doors to close them himself. "What did I just tell you?"

"Aah, he won't go in there - he's still too overwhelmed to even look in that direction," Blaine reassures him, wiping his nose for what must be the fiftieth time that day as he points at Mael who, effectively, has only just poked his head out of the box, sniffing the air and looking around curiously. "And he can have one of the rooms, no? We don't need two - we can move in in one and then give him the other one."

"You mean us moving into one bedroom?" Kurt asks incredulously, heart beating fast against his chest, not sure if he heard it right.

When they'd first gotten together back in March Blaine had flat-out refused to give up his own bedroom, something that had bothered Kurt more than he'd wanted to admit at the time, and so Kurt hadn't dared to bring up the subject yet this time around, not quite ready for that kind of rejection. But now suddenly here Blaine was, just a little over a week into their newly established relationship, casually suggesting they move in together with the same kind of ease with which he would have asked Kurt to pick up some milk on his way from class. Granted, it was said partly in jest, but it still felt huge, although Kurt immediately forces himself to swallow down the tears pressing behind his eyes - if this could get Blaine in his bedroom every night he wasn't about to risk ruin it by making a fuss about it.

He clears his throat.

"Sure, we can share a room. But him getting the other one? No way. He's a cat, Blaine, he doesn't get to have his own room."

Without waiting for a reply he moves to the couch, taking his laptop from the coffee table as he walks by it, and while he waits for it to start up he watches Blaine, sitting cross-legged on the floor some four feet in front of Mael's carrier, gently tapping the floor with his fingers in an attempt to coax their newest flatmate out of his box.

"You do know you're just scaring him, don't you?" he says, although the smile in his voice is apparent even to him, but Blaine doesn't even bother to look up.

"No, I'm not," he says distractedly. "I'm using his hunter instincts to my advantage to lure him out of safety."

"Of course," Kurt murmurs to himself, smiling, and he shoots Blaine one last amused look before he returns his attention to the screen in front of him.

He's got one new friend request on Facebook from a guy he doesn't know and which he immediately refuses -pity because his profile picture does look kinda cute, but Kurt's heard too many horror stories to take the risk; plus, he's kinda taken-, one new message from Madeleine, his History partner, which he chooses to ignore for now, and one wall post from Nick.

"Nick's not coming for karaoke on Friday," he says out loud, surprised. Nick was the one who basically  _invented_  karaoke Fridays, and Kurt wouldn't have been able to tell you when the last time he'd missed one was even if you'd threatened to cut up his brand new Demeulemeester pea coat.

"Maybe he's got a date?" Blaine suggests over his shoulder. "He was practically glued to his cell the other night."

"He was?"

Kurt hadn't noticed - but then again, he hadn't noticed much that night except for Mercedes. Still - Nick: a date? He wouldn't, not without telling Kurt, at least.

"Hey, while you're at it - could you check my e-mail for me?" Blaine's voice pulls him out of his thoughts. "I asked Justine to send me the setlist for Sunday and she keeps on forgetting."

"No, it's here, sent it this morning, apparently," Kurt says after he's switched tabs, and he laughs when Blaine brings his hands together and mouths a silent 'thank you' at the ceiling. "And you've got another one too, from... Sunya... Soondja... how am I supposed to pronounce this name?"

"Sun-ja Kim?" Blaine asks, immediately jumping up when Kurt nods. "Oh god - that's- that's my supervisor. The one that's speaking at the Christmas Spectacular, remember?"

"You e-mailed her?" Kurt asks, surprised, handing over the laptop as Blaine sinks down next to him in the couch.

"Well, you said I should, didn't you?" Blaine tells him. "To avoid the awkward when I'll meet her at Dalton?"

"Yeah, but I didn't know you'd actually  _done_  it. You said you did't want to disclose over e-mail."

"I didn't," Blaine says, his eyes flitting over the screen. "I just told her I'd be there and-" He cuts himself off, eyes widening as he reads on. "No, please... please don't do this to me, no... oh god, please, no."

He pushes the laptop back, all color drained from his face, and Kurt stares at him in alarm.

"What? What is it? What did she-"

He stops himself when Blaine wordlessly turns the laptop towards him, and when Blaine rises up and starts pacing around he pulls it onto his own lap to start reading.

> _Hello Blaine,_
> 
> _It is good to hear from you! I had been wondering whether we would meet at the Dalton's Christmas Spectacular; I actually thought you might have been the one to suggest HAPE as the beneficiary of the fundraiser to the headmaster. It is quite a coincidence indeed!_
> 
> _I am looking forward to meeting you and exchange ideas and views. However, since most of the donations raised will actually go to the summer project you will be supervising, I thought you might be interested in doing the presentation yourself? It could be beneficial from a fundraising point of view, because as an alumnus of the school you are granted a certain amount of respect and trust that I, as an outsider, would not enjoy. It would of course be a valuable experience for yourself as well, and it would certainly give you more credit in terms of involvement in the project and our organization. It stands to reason I would help you with any and all aspects of the preparation should you choose to take the offer._
> 
> _Please let me know whether you would be interested._
> 
> _Best regards,_
> 
> _Sun-ja Kim_  
>  Prevention Coordinator

.

"You have to do it."

"I can't do it."

They've both spoken at the same time, and for a few seconds they just stare at each other in silence, but then Blaine shakes his head.

"I can't do it, Kurt. I just- I can't. She doesn't even know what it is she's asking of me and I-"

"She's not asking for a testimony, Blaine," Kurt interrupts him, already feeling where this is heading. "It's just an introductory presentation; it's exactly what she was going to do, only it would be you speaking instead of her. And she's right - people will be more likely to donate if the speaker is someone they know. And people _like_  you at Dalton."

But Blaine huffs, dragging his hands through his hair.

"Great - so what am I, some kind of human money-magnet? She's asking me to talk about HIV and AIDS to my former classmates and teachers, Kurt, seriously - how long do you think it's going to take them to figure it out?"

"But they won't!" Kurt exasperates. "They have no reason to assume this is anything more to you, do they? And Kim suggested you give that talk without knowing you're positive - it would just be something you'd do within the framework of your internship, nobody's gonna think twice about it."

"Right," Blaine drawls cynically, "because that would be  _so_  plausible."

"Anybody could do an internship with an AIDS organization, you said so yourself," Kurt counters, getting up now and walking over to Blaine. "Blaine, you said you wanted to help people. Well, here's your chance!"

But Blaine just shoots him a desperate look and then shakes his head.

"They're all gonna be there, Kurt. My friends, my classmates, ... the Warblers. Everyone. They're all gonna be there and I'll have to talk to them about something nobody even knows I care about."

"Then don't," Kurt tells him, grabbing Blaine's hands. "If you're really that uncomfortable then just tell her you don't want to do it."

"Oh yeah, first task my supervisor gives me and I'm refusing to do it - great way to start an internship, don't you think?" Blaine says despondently, trying to pull his hands out of Kurt's grip, but Kurt's not letting go. "Besides, you read the e-mail - if I don't do it I'll lose my credit before I've even started."

"You're not gonna lose anything, Blaine - she didn't give you a task, she made a suggestion. You're free to take it or not, it's your decision." Kurt bites his lip, bringing Blaine's hands up as he rubs his thumbs over the backs of his hands. "Look, Blaine, if you really don't want to do it, then don't - don't just do it because you feel like you have to. But I really think you should think about it first, before you decide anything. Don't just act on impulse, because you're going to regret that."

But the look in Blaine's eyes when he looks back at Kurt is nothing if not panic.

"There's nothing  _to_  decide, Kurt - I can't do this. I just can't. It's- it's what I wanna do, some day, maybe, yes. But- not yet, not- not when so many people I know and care about are going to be there. Because if I get up there and do that talk without telling anyone just why it's so important to me I'm gonna feel like a hypocrite. But I can't tell them either, Kurt, I just-... it's too much. I can't do it. I just- can't."

"All right," Kurt tries to reassure him, stepping a bit closer and wrapping his arms around his waist. "All right, then don't do it. Just... don't reply yet, ok? Sleep on it, give it some time... And for what it's worth: I don't think you'd be a hypocrite. I think you'd be doing the most you can within your own boundaries. I think-... I think you'd be amazing."

Kurt tries to hold Blaine's gaze as he says it, desperate to let Blaine know that he means it, that he believes in him, but Blaine just drops his head against Kurt's shoulder, and Kurt doesn't even know how long they're standing there, simply holding each other, each occupied by their own thoughts.

What he  _does_  know, however, is that when he opens his eyes and looks back up again, he is greeted by the sight of a large, fluffy, grey-haired cat casually sitting on the kitchen counter. And he tries to stay calm, he really does, tries to say something along the lines of  _'Blaine, your cat is licking out our frying pan.'_. But when Mael looks up at him, the smugness written all over his face, it's all Kurt can do to storm straight into the kitchen.

"Mael I swear - if you  _don't get_   **down there _RIGHT AWAY_** **-**...!"


	19. Chapter 18

The next couple of weeks are some of the busiest Kurt has ever seen. There's finals, of course, and project deadlines are fast approaching for both him and Blaine. Mainly though, it's everything else going on around him that keeps him occupied.

There's Mercedes, who's stopped showing up at the karaoke bar, claiming to be stressed out by finals, and who, apart from a short and dry 'first HIV test negative, ABs for chlamydia', doesn't reply to any of Kurt's other inquiries or suggestions to meet up. There's Mael, who turns out to be a handful both in the literal and the figurative sense of the word, and not just because he seems to be obsessed with weaseling his way into Kurt and Blaine's bedroom. There's his dad, who Kurt knows he will have to talk to about Blaine come Christmas, now he no longer has Thanksgiving's excuse of 'oh, it's all so new and fresh and uncertain'. And of course there's Blaine, who takes a week of sleepless nights and pacing around before he finally decides to accept Kim's offer and talk at the Christmas Spectacular, and then spends every moment of spare time preparing said talk.

And Kurt can't remember a time when he was happier.

Because despite all the worries and preoccupations he feels like he's walking on clouds, and it's obvious Blaine feels the same way. And it is only now, seeing Blaine laugh and joke around and even tease, that Kurt realizes just how unbalanced their first attempt at a relationship had been, and exactly how guarded and careful Blaine had been that whole time without Kurt even noticing. And even if he sometimes still wishes things had gone differently, in some strange way he thinks it might have been worth it to get to the point where they're at now.

-o0o-

"Are you sure you wanna do this?" Blaine asks him for the umpteenth time, and Kurt rolls his eyes.

" _Yes_ ," he sighs. "I want to go with you to your doctor's appointment."

"It's boring."

"I don't care."

"Worst case scenario I'll just get a new bottle of pills and that's it."

"Well then it won't take long, will it?"

"Nothing is actually going to  _happen_."

"Blaine, will you shut up already?"

Kurt turns around at the door, one hand in his side and the other on the doorknob, his eyes shooting daggers.

"It's not up for discussion. You're going, I'm going - why are you even making such a fuss about this?"

Blaine shrugs as he pulls on his jacket.

"I don't know. I just think you're expecting this whole...  _circus_ and it's really nothing. We'll be in and out in like, ten minutes."

"I know," Kurt tells him. "I know how it goes - I've been there, remember? I expect to see the doctor, discuss your results, possibly get new meds, and go home. That sound about right?"

Blaine hesitates.

"I guess..."

"Well then, put on your scarf and let's get on with it. And don't you even dare accuse me of smothering you - I don't care how my DC4s you've got, it's 30 degrees out and you've been boosting Kleenex sales since Thanksgiving. You are  _not_  going out without a scarf."

"It's CD4s, actually..." Blaine corrects him with a smirk, and Kurt rolls his eyes.

"My point still stands. Scarf. Hat.  _Move_."

Blaine immediately stiffens up, bringing his fingers to his temple in a faux salute, and Kurt can't help but laugh stepping back to hold the door open.

"Dork," he says accusingly, although he giggles when Blaine gives him a playful peck on the nose in passing.

"Quid erat demonstrandum," Blaine winks, and it's all Kurt can do to roll his eyes again as he closes the door behind them.

.

They take the subway to the hospital, and even though it's not the first time they've made this trip together, something feels different now. They're still going to the same hospital, and they're still anxiously awaiting the result - or at least Kurt is: Blaine doesn't seen to be bothered too much, buried as he is in the latest New York Times Bestseller. But while Blaine used to tag along with Kurt because Kurt didn't like going alone -and just maybe because of a not-so-small amount of underlying guilt- this time Kurt's taking the trip with Blaine because he  _wants_ to. Because he wants to support Blaine, because they're in this together.

It's barely half an hour before they're at the hospital, and even after all these months it still feels frighteningly familiar to Kurt. Past the reception, through the first corridor, elevator to the third floor; more corridors, more doors, around the corner and then - the waiting room. The chairs look just as uncomfortable as they did four months ago, and the posters on the walls are still screaming the same messages of prevention and protection at Kurt. And even though he knew it was coming, prepared himself for it, the memories of his first visit hit him full force as soon as he steps into that room - his confusion, his fear, the questionnaires and the tests and the pills and those two words from Blaine that changed his life - _their_  lives- forever: "I'm positive."

This is not a happy place. It never can be, not for Kurt. Because no matter how many times they will give you good news here, a mere hint of bad news can be enough to put it all back on the line again, and suddenly Kurt is all too aware of that, and he automatically reaches for Blaine's hand although he immediately curses himself for it. Because this time  _he's_  supposed to support  _Blaine_ ; this time  _he's_  supposed to be the strong one, the shoulder to lean on - not the other way around. But Blaine doesn't seem to mind, taking Kurt's hand in his own with a wink and a squeeze, and just like that Kurt can feel the anxiety subside, feels his pulse slow down and his breath get steady and he wonders when this happened - when Blaine had become that one person he trusts so unconditionally that he calms down just by taking his hand.

It was when  _Blaine_  had started trusting  _him_ , Kurt thinks, smiling as he watches Blaine saunter over to the reception desk and announce their arrival to the secretary. Because there he is: confident Blaine, relaxed Blaine, support-group-leader Blaine who's in his third year of Psychology, who loves music and football, and who happens to be HIV positive. But HIV is what he  _has_ , not what he  _is_ , and when Blaine turns around, smiling broadly, Kurt realizes that Blaine didn't actually need his support to come here, that his apparent nonchalance about the test results is not an act to calm himself down or to keep Kurt from panicking. It's a genuine lack of concern - not because he doesn't care, but because he honestly believes he's going to be all right, because he trusts his doctors and his meds to keep him healthy.

And so maybe this is not a happy place, but it's definitely not a sad place either.

It doesn't take long for someone to call Blaine's name, and as Blaine gets up he looks back at Kurt.

"Do you want to wait here?"

The question makes Kurt feel queasy, and he forces himself to push back the doubts and insecurities the question evokes - Blaine is simply giving him options, he tells himself, he's not trying to keep anything away from him.

"No, I wanna come," he says as airily as he can manage, and he only hopes that Blaine doesn't hear the quiver in his voice. If Blaine does he doesn't let it show because he nods, making a little bow as he holds out his arm to indicate Kurt can go first, and when Blaine places his hand reassuringly on his lower back, Kurt finally manages to calm down. A little.

.

"Blaine - oh, and eh... Kurt, was it? Good to see you again. Just give me a minute here, I still need to-"

Dr. Duchatelet waves her hand at her computer, and Kurt and Blaine sink down in two chairs that are only marginally more comfortable than the ones in the waiting room, waiting for her to finish up.

"So," she finally says after she closes the document and turns towards them. "How are you doing, Blaine? Can I assume Kurt's presence indicates a happy reunion or am I jumping to conclusions now?"

The look she shoots at the two of them is both curious and a little amused, and Kurt ducks his head, his cheeks flushed with a happy sort of embarrassment. From the corner of his eye he can see Blaine is grinning like an idiot though, and apparently that's all the answer Duchatelet needs because she immediately starts smiling. It's a strange look on her - she's a sturdy woman with short, dirty blonde hair that looks like she cuts it herself, and Kurt never liked her much; partly because of the hair, but mainly because she's blunt and can be rational to a fault. Maybe he had been a little too fast to judge though - after all, they hadn't exactly met under the brightest of circumstances.

"Well, congratulations," Duchatelet says with a nod, and then shoots the both of them an investigating look. "I trust you boys know how to keep it safer?"

It's all Kurt can do to duck his head even lower than before, in actually embarrassment this time -because he is so not talking about  _that_ to _her_ \- but Blaine doesn't seem to mind.

"We're... taking it one step at a time," he tells her, reaching out to give Kurt's knee a quick squeeze. "No need to rush into things."

And they're not - far from it even. They're not going quite as slow as Blaine had made them go the first time around, but still definitely slower than Kurt's relationship with Nick had progressed, way back when. After that first morning Blaine'd insisted on wearing a condom each time he came and it wasn't until the past weekend, a month after they'd started dating again, that Blaine had even allowed Kurt to touch him. Still, Kurt thinks, despite their slow pace -or maybe because of it- it's endearing to see Blaine as exited as he is, eager to explore and discover and experiment and at the same time holding back, not wanting to press Kurt or himself into something either of them is not ready for. It never gets awkward, though, a gentle squeeze or a silent glance sufficient to tell the other ' _no, stop_ ' or ' _yes, ok_ ', and Kurt's not sure which is the best part - to know that ' _no_ ' really means ' _not yet_ ', or that ' _yes_ ' really,  _really_  means ' _yes_ '.

Duchatelet doesn't appear to have to much confidence in either of them, though, because instead of simply taking Blaine's answer at face value she asks him: "You remember the basic rule?"

"Come on me not in me," Blaine recites with a smile, although Kurt doesn't miss his little eye roll. "Don't worry, we know what we're doing, and as I said - we're taking things slow."

This time Duchatelet shoots them both an intimidating look, but when they both just stare back, unwavering, she finally seems to decide to give them the benefit of the doubt, and she folds her arms on the desk in front of her.

"All right then," she says, "but if you have any questions or doubts when you do take things further, don't hesitate to ask, ok? Both of you."

Despite her words she sends her most poignant look at Kurt, her eyes all but piercing through his skull and Kurt is sure that in that instant she can read his mind, which is all the more disconcerting because he actually does have a question, even if it isn't  _directly_  related to what they had just been talking about.

"Actually... ," he starts, gathering his courage and trying to ignore the way Blaine's head snaps at him in surprise, "I was...  _wondering_... if I-eh... if I should get tested too. Not-not  _now_ , of course, but- maybe- like- if we  _do_. Take things... further, I mean."

He swallows hard, trying in vain to will his blush to go away. Being forced to explain to a  _female_ doctor exactly what he had done to end up in need of PEP treatment six months prior had been properly unsettling, but discussing his sex life -even a putative, future version of it- with her is a completely different league of awkward. But when he looks back up Duchatelet is looking at him with apprehension in her eyes.

"I don't know," she says, folding her hands in front of her. "Do you expect you will  _need_ to be tested?"

"Oh- no. N-no-no, god, no," Kurt stammers, feeling himself turn an even deeper shade of red at the implication. "I just- I thought- maybe, like, precautionary-wise, or something?"

"Well," Duchatelet tells him patiently, "as long as you stick to the rules it's really not necessary. But if you think it will make you feel safer you're always welcome to come along with Blaine, although I have to warn you worrying about the results each time might give you more stress than not getting tested would."

Kurt nods in understanding. He remembers the anxiety that waiting for test results used to bring with it all too well, but then again - they'd be waiting for Blaine's results anyway, wouldn't they? In the back of his mind he knows it's not quite the same, but he also knows he's going to be stressing out about it anyway; he might as well get a four-monthly reassurance everything's still all right. But Duchatelet hasn't finished talking yet.

"There is another possibility, though," she says before Kurt can say something. "To further reduce the risk of transmission, I mean, since I assume that's what you're worried about. I could prescribe you Truvada."

"Truvada?" Kurt asks, incredulous, sure he didn't hear it right. "But that's- that's what's been causing Blaine trouble. That's what made his kidneys fail."

"It didn't exactly make his kidneys fail," the doctor corrects him, "and although it's not uncommon what happened with Blaine is still exceptional, especially when the Truvada is used as a pre-exposure prophylaxis, or PrEP - a little similar to the post-exposure prophylaxis or PEP you're already familiar with. But unlike PEP, which is started up within 72 hours after exposure to the virus, PrEP is a preventive measure which reduces the risk of HIV infection  _before_  exposure."

"But that's pills every day," Kurt says apprehensively.

"That's one pill every day," Duchatelet confirms, "and as with any anti-retroviral it is very important to take it daily, at the right time. Of course, this is an additional safety measure - safer sex practice is still a priority, and you will still need to use condoms whenever necessary. But PrEP significantly reduces the risk of infection between serodiscordant partners such as yourselves, and I really think it might be something to consider."

Back to pills, Kurt thinks, not sure how he feels about that. Back to pill boxes and punctual meal times and stuffing his body full with chemicals it shouldn't need in the first place. Of course, if it really would reduce the chances of him getting HIV he might be crazy to turn down the opportunity, but then again, how much sense did it make to take one pill a day to avoid taking three pills a day?

"I... I need to think about it," he manages, chancing a little smile when he feels Blaine's hand on his knee once again.

"Of course," Duchatelet concedes, neither her voice of her posture giving away whether or not she thinks Kurt should do it. "As I said - just let us know, or come along with Blaine. And that goes if you have any other worries or questions as well, all right?"

Kurt quickly nods, trying to make sense of the mixture of relief and anxiety that suddenly makes his stomach clench. He doesn't get too much time to dwell on it though, because across from the table the doctor's taken out a folder with Blaine's name on it.

"So, Blaine," Duchatelet says, opening the folder, "we were going to decide today whether or not to switch your cocktail, am I right?"

Kurt's stomach makes a jolt but Blaine just nods, looking unfazed, and Kurt resists the urge to reach out and take his hand.

"Well... " Duchatelet flips a page, her eyebrows furrowing as she studies Blaine's results. "I'll be honest - it's not as bad as I feared it might have been... Even so, I really think it's best if we took you off the Truvada."

And this time Kurt doesn't try to fight it, gripping Blaine's hand tightly in his own as the doctor continues.

"Now, here's what I propose we'll do. I'll give you new prescriptions, for Kivexa, and I want you to start taking these immediately. Nothing really changes, it's just the same procedure as you're used to - you take them with dinner, every day at the same time. Are you going anywhere for the holidays?"

"We're leaving for Ohio on Friday," Blaine confirms. "We should be back before New Year's though."

Duchatelet seems to contemplate something for a moment, looking at her calendar, and then back at Blaine.

"Is it possible for you to check in again on Monday, December 30th?" she asks, and for the first time that day Kurt can see the smallest shred of doubt in Blaine's posture.

"Eh... sure," Blaine replies, voice quavering just a little. "But why so soon?"

"I just want to make sure you have no adverse reactions," Duchatelet explains calmly. "The active component in Kivexa is acabavir, which has been know to cause an allergic reaction in some people. Now, I ha-"

"Wait-wait- what?" Kurt perks up, glancing between the doctor and Blaine. "What do you mean, 'allergic reaction'?"

Duchatelet seems to hesitate for a moment, but then she closes the folder in front of her, folding her hands together over it.

"A lot of HIV medications cause side effects," she begins, "and for Kivexa this is most commonly headache, hair loss, insomnia, ... However, a number of people -and do keep in mind this is a small number, around 5%- develop a more severe reaction. Which is why we'll have follow-up appointments with Blaine every two weeks for the next two months."

"And what exactly does this 'allergic reaction' consist of?" Kurt asks nervously, his heart beating fast against his chest. "Rash? Vomiting?"

"Could be," Duchatelet says with another nod. "Most commonly there's a fever and a rash. Patients usually have trouble breathing, are tired, and just generally feel sick. If and when this happens they should stop treatment immediately, or the reaction might become life-threatening. However," and even though she stresses the word Kurt's gasp is still clearly audible, "there is a strong link between the hypersensitivity and a certain gene, for which patients are tested before starting therapy. Blaine tested negative for this gene, which is why I feel confident to prescribe him with Kivexa."

"Are you okay with this?" Kurt asks heatedly as he turns towards Blaine, who, ironically, is just blowing his nose, looking at Kurt like a deer caught in the headlights. "Are you really going to take drugs that could land you in hospital that easily?"

"Well, if she says that it's my best option... ," Blaine offers feebly, looking at Duchatelet for support, but Kurt can hear the hesitation in his voice.

"Is there really no other way?" he asks, turning back towards Duchatelet. "There has got to be other drugs that you could prescribe him, no? Because I'm not liking this too much to be honest."

"I understand," Duchatelet concedes, and to his own surprise Kurt finds that he actually believes her. "But there is currently no reason to assume Blaine would react badly to the acabavir, and I really think this is the best choice for him at this moment. We will be following him up closely, and he will be given an alert card so that when something does happen anyone treating him will know what they might be dealing with. I promise you: we will not let anything happen to him."

It sounds convincing enough, and to her credit Duchatelet doesn't waver when Kurt sends her a scrutinizing look, but that doesn't mean Kurt likes the whole situation any better.

"You really think this is the best treatment option for Blaine?" he asks, and Duchatelet nods.

"I do."

"And you're sure you're ok with this?" he asks Blaine again, and Blaine shoots another look at Duchatelet before he turns to Kurt.

"Yes," he says, reaching out to take Kurt's hand in his. "Kurt, it's like she said - they're not gonna let anything happen to me. I'll be taking care of me, you'll be looking out for me, I'll come back here every two weeks, ... it's gonna be fine.  _I'm_  gonna be fine."

Kurt wants to believe. He really, really does. But he doesn't have the experience Blaine has, doesn't share his confidence and his unfailing optimism. Still, if this is what the doctor thinks is best, and Blaine agrees... there's nothing he can say.

"Okay then," he says. "Okay. But if you so much as sneeze the wrong way I'll personally drag you to the E.R., and that's a promise."

But even is Blaine gives him his brightest smile, Kurt knows he won't sleep until Blaine makes it past the first two months of therapy and out of the danger zone.

 


	20. Chapter 19

Kurt all but drives Blaine crazy in the days that follow the change in cocktail: every single sniff, every little cough is analyzed and re-analyzed until Kurt is rest assured once again that the Kivexa wasn't to blame, and so it is hard to tell which of them is more relieved when Blaine seems to be finally getting the upper hand in battling his cold by the time the semester ends. It doesn't stop Kurt from fussing though, or from making both Gary and Ben promise to keep an eye on Blaine when he drops the three of them off at the Andersons' house for the Christmas holidays. It hardly matters he'll see Blaine the next day for the Christmas Spectacular - just the idea of letting Blaine out of his sight for any amount of time makes him feel queasy. Staying at the Andersons is hardly an option, however, and after a quick kiss and a final promise of Blaine to let Kurt know if anything should happen, Kurt forces himself to leave Blaine in the care of his brother, and start the last part of the drive on his own.

It's almost another hour later by the time Kurt parks the car in front of his dad's house, exhausted and wondering why on earth he had opted to drive again. Not that he would ever consider flying - between the hours he would have to spend waiting at the airport, the problems he would inevitably run into during security checks -he still hasn't forgiven them for confiscating his hippo brooch when they'd gone to Nationals senior year- and having to ask his dad to pick him up, he'd much rather spend a nine hour drive in the company of the Anderson brothers. But time and time again he underestimates exactly how tiring it is, and so it's with a deep sigh that he heaves his trolley out of the trunk and walks up to the front door, ringing the doorbell just once.

"Oh honey, I'm so glad you're here! How are you? Did the drive go well? I hope the roads weren't too bad? I really wish you wouldn't insist on driving every time, I keep telling you: it's no problem for us to go get you at the airport, you know?"

Carole hugs him tight even as she's rambling and fussing over him but Kurt happily lets her, glad to be home, letting himself be escorted to the living room as he assures his stepmother that he's good, that the roads were okay, and that he survived the trip just fine. He doesn't mention how the Andersons had made the trip more bearable by occasionally taking over the wheel though - he still hasn't decided how he's gonna break the news of his new relationship status, but he does know it's not something he wants to discuss after he's spent a whole day driving; for now he just wants to enjoy being back home with his family, and he's not about to risk even the smallest of discussions by mentioning Blaine.

He's barely entered the living room when he gets pulled into his second bone-crushing hug in as many minutes, this time by his dad, and immediately after a third from Finn, who Kurt can't help but stare at, holding him at arm's length to look at him properly as soon as they pull away from each other. It's been only a couple of months since he last saw his stepbrother, but once again Finn's changed, his skin even more tanned and his pants and t-shirt hugging his body yet a little tighter, and Kurt can't help but think back of his sixteen year-old self and how  _he_  would have reacted to the man in front of him: with his short military haircut -and really, Kurt should be used to that by now- Finn looks even more imposing than he already was, the confidence the army has given him clear even just from the way he's holding himself now.

"You're looking good," Kurt says with a smile, and then, when Finn looks at him a little apprehensively: "Not in a gay way."

"Oh - no, that's not- I don't... it's... I mean..."

Finn's all but falling over his words in his haste to correct himself, and if it wasn't so painful to watch Kurt would probably find it endearing. Finn is honestly trying, he knows, even if he's not always politically correct in his words or actions, and so Kurt quickly helps him out of his misery by placing his hand on his arm with a small, reassuring smile.

"So, the military is good for you, is it?" he changes the subject, and to his relief Finn takes the bait, nodding enthusiastically.

"It's awesome! We're having so much fun. I mean - yeah, it's hard sometimes, but we pull each other through, you know? And I got to retake the ASVAB and I got 103 on the ST so after Christmas I can finally start my health care specialist AIT!"

Finn's beaming and so Kurt beams along with him, congratulating him even though he honestly has no clue what Finn has just told him. What he does understand, though, is that after his rather disastrous attempt at community college last year Finn seems to have finally found his place, and so Kurt gladly lets him babble, nodding here and there until Finn cuts himself off.

"Dude, where is Blaine?"

For a split second everybody in the room freezes; except for Finn, that is, who's craning his neck to look over Kurt's shoulder into the hallway as if he expects Blaine to show up there any minute, and it's all Kurt can do to pray that his stepbrother's sudden interest in Blaine is purely coincidental.

"He... uh... is with his-uh... his family," he says -or rather, stutters-, and he curses himself for his lack of eloquence as he makes his best 'please drop the subject' eyes at Finn. Finn who had been away on Basic Combat Training in the spring when everything with Blaine had gone down. Finn who had never been told the details of Kurt and Blaine's break-up.

Finn who has absolutely no idea why Kurt and Blaine's happy reunion might be a sensitive subject in the Hummel-Hudson household.

"But Rachel said you guys were back together?"

The words hit Kurt like a bomb, and if the atmosphere in the room had been strained before it was nothing compared to the tension that floods the room now. Kurt can feel his dad's eyes practically burn a hole in the side of his head and from the corner of his eye he sees Carole place a calming hand on his dad's arm, but all of that goes right by Finn.

"I was looking forward to playing Last Of Us with him," he says unhappily, and Kurt forces himself to keep his attention focused on Finn.

"I'll eh... ask him if he can come over some time this week, all right?" he tells him, lifting the corners of his mouth in a facsimile of a smile but fortunately Finn seems to buy it, his face breaking open in a wide smile as he pats Kurt on the shoulder with an enthusiastic 'Thanks, dude!'.

After that, it takes Carole barely two minutes to find an excuse to get herself and Finn out of the room, leaving Kurt standing behind the couch with one very angry looking parent beside him.

"So..." his dad drawls, staring hard at Kurt. "You two back together, huh?"

Trying to deny Finn's statement will only make things worse, Kurt knows, but still he needs more than one deep breath before he manages to steel himself and meet his dad's gaze.

"Yes," he finally croaks. "Yes, we are."

"And you didn't think it was necessary to inform your old man about this?"

His dad's voice is shaking from barely withheld anger, but it's the underlying tone of hurt and disappointment that makes Kurt feel sick.

"I was going to tell you, dad," he pleads, "I really was. I just... there just never was a good moment for it."

"How long?"

"What?"

"How long since you started dating again?" his dad repeats, and Kurt closes his eyes for a moment, taking another deep breath.

"November 17," he says -whispers, almost- as he turns his gaze to the floor.

"You're meaning to tell me you've been dating that bastard for a month and you haven't found a single moment, not even in the three days you were here for Thanksgiving, to tell me that?" his dad asks, his voice dangerously low. "Is that what you're trying to say?"

"Dad, please-"

"No, Kurt!" his dad explodes. "No! You were purposefully keeping this from me and we both know why!"

"Because I knew this was how you were going to react!" Kurt immediately yells back. "I knew you wouldn't understand!"

"Then explain it to me! Explain to me how you can date someone who ruined your life once already, and who is very likely to do it again!"

"He didn't-"

"He  _lied_ to you, Kurt!" his dad thunders, not giving Kurt the chance to try and defend himself. "From the day he met you until the morning he dropped you at that hospital he lied to you, every single day!"

"He was just trying to protect me!"

"Protect you?" his dad huffs, laughing humorlessly. "What are you talking about, 'protect you'? He didn't protect you from anything, Kurt, on the contrary,  _he put you in danger!_ "

"I put  _myself_  in danger, dad! And besides, I'm fine now - nothing happened, I'm  _fine_."

"You're dating someone who has been proven to be an untrustworthy liar! You're living with him, and god knows what else you're doing with him - Kurt, I don't know what you're thinking but you're _not '_ fine _'_! You really expect me to sit here and wait for the next call from the hospital?"

"But  _I'm not gonna end up in hospital_!" Kurt counters desperately. "And neither is Blaine - he's got it under control, and we're really, really careful."

"Right," his dad drawls cynically. "Because nothing ever goes wrong with medication, and condoms are 100% safe, right? Also, that still doesn't change the fact that he lied to you for years."

"Well, seeing as you've been yelling at me about it for the past ten minutes has it occurred to you that maybe he had a good reason for that?" Kurt bites back, trying to ignore his dad's first remark - he never said anything about the issues with Blaine's meds, and this is clearly not the time to bring them up either. He can't remember ever having had this heavy of a fight with his dad, and when he looks at the man across the room, shaking all over and breathing heavily, it occurs to Kurt they should probably stop shouting, because if this causes his dad to have another heart attack he'll never forgive himself.

"Look," he says soothingly after he's taken a few calming breaths, "I'm not saying Blaine didn't make any mistakes, but he's a good guy, and believe me when I say he's really sorry about what happened. But right now all you're doing is proving he was right in not telling people, you know?"

But his dad just huffs, rolling his eyes in a way that reminds Kurt that, despite their differences, Burt Hummel is very much his son's father.

"Don't make this about me when  _he's_ the problem, Kurt," his dad says grittily. "I trusted him with my only son and he paid me back with a panicked phone call on a Sunday afternoon. And I honestly don't give a damn if he's a 'good guy' or if 'he said sorry' - he could win the Nobel Peace Prize for all I care, but he hurt you worse than I ever imagined possible and he's going to have to do better than some half-ass apology if he expects me to even  _consider_  forgiving him."

The words cut deep and Kurt cringes, because after all said and done his dad is right: Blaine _has_ hurt him, deeper than he had ever thought he could be hurt, and no amount of forgiveness and understanding will ever erase that bare fact.

"Look, kiddo," his dad continues, rubbing his hands over his face in a clear attempt to calm himself down. "I know you're a compassionate person, and I've always let you make your own decisions. Back in high school when you wanted to ask that Dave kid to your birthday party despite everything he'd done to you, I didn't say anything. When you didn't want to move out of Blaine's apartment after Easter, I respected that, too. But this, this is going too far, and I can't let you do this. I just can't. You're my son and I love you and I can't let you ruin your life like this."

"Well then I'm sorry," Kurt chokes, sticking his chin up in the air in an attempt to keep away the tears that are pressing behind his eyes, "because you're my dad and I love you too, but I worked long and hard to make things work with Blaine, and I won't give up on him just because you're too blind to see him for who he is: the person who makes me happier than I've ever been."

Without another word he turns on his heels and marches towards the hall, pursing his lips and holding his breath as he makes his way up the stairs and to his old bedroom, but it isn't until he throws himself face-first on the bed that he allows the tears to fall.

It isn't unexpected - he knows his dad still blames Blaine for everything that has happened, knows that it wouldn't have been realistic to think his dad would be overjoyed with the news. He could hardly expect his dad to forgive Blaine in the blink of an eye just because Kurt asked him to, when Kurt himself had taken months to get to that point.

Still, it would have been nice if his dad had at least  _tried_ to understand, if he'd at least  _tried_ to listen to Kurt.

Kurt's sure he could make his dad see things from his perspective if he could just make him  _listen_.

"Hey dude..."

The words are hesitant and slightly apologetic, and when Kurt turns around, wiping at his eyes and nose in a futile attempt to look a little more dignified, he sees Finn standing in the doorway, uncomfortable and awkward, more the long-limbed high schooler Kurt remembers from their Glee Club days than the toughened soldier he said hello to just half an hour earlier.

"I just... eh, wanted to apologize," Finn continues apprehensively, shifting from one foot to the other. "For- eh... well, I just wanted to apologize, I guess. I really didn't mean to get you into trouble or anything."

Kurt smiles wryly. 'Trouble' wasn't exactly the right word to describe the situation Finn had gotten him in, and for just a second he wonders just how much Finn has overheard from his shouting match with his dad. Not too much, he hopes, because one fight for the evening was more than enough already.

"It's all right," he finally sighs. It's really not, but that's hardly Finn's fault. "It's... you couldn't know. He was going to find out sooner or later anyway so... it's... it's fine."

Finn's shoulders drop in relief almost instantly, but contrarily to what Kurt expected he doesn't immediately leave, glancing down to his feet and down the hall before he turns back to Kurt.

"Do you... eh... do you wanna hang out in my room?" he finally asks, a little clumsily. "We could- eh... watch a movie, or something. If you want."

For a moment, Kurt is speechless - for all the brotherly love that's grown between them over the years, they've never really gotten much further than Kurt's late night lady-monologues over shared cups of hot milk. But here Finn is, in what can only be interpreted as an attempt to comfort him, and even if Kurt isn't exactly in the mood for a movie, anything seems better than having a one-man pity party in his bed.

"Sure," he agrees, and it would've been worth it just to see the stunned smile on Finn's face, as if he'd just been trying something but hadn't expected it to actually work. "Sure, let me- eh... just give me a second, okay?"

Finn nods happily, shooting Kurt another smile before he turns to go to his room, and Kurt lets himself fall back on the bed, closing his eyes and counting to ten, and then twenty, as he pushes all thoughts of his dad and their argument out of his head. He knows they'll have to continue their conversation some time -and sooner rather than later if he doesn't want to spend the rest of his Christmas holidays miserable and holed up in his room- but not right now. Right now he's going to allow Finn to distract him with some random movie and pretend to love it, and as he heaves himself off the bed he grabs his cell phone to shoot a quick text to Blaine.

**12-23-2012 19:29-Wish you were here xx**

.

Finn's already lying on his bed when Kurt enters the room, his tv showing the menu of his external hard disk.

"I didn't know what you'd like to watch," he says hesitantly, offering the remote to Kurt, "I thought maybe you'd like to choose?"

But one glance at the tv immediately makes it clear to Kurt chances are low that there's something on there that could even remotely classify as a feel-good movie in his world, and he shrugs.

"It's okay, I don't really know any of these anyway - you choose."

Finn seems both happy and extremely stressed out to have been given the honor to choose, and so Kurt smiles at him reassuringly as he settles down next to him, watching Finn navigate the menus expertly to start the movie. They're about fifteen minutes in when Kurt feels the faint buzz of his phone in his pocket.

11-23-2012 19:50 - _Well that didn't take long ;). You all right? Wish I was there too xxx_

**12-23-2012 19:52 - Urgh don't ask. Finn babbled, dad knows, do I need to say more? I just want to sleep. Or cuddle.  
12-23-2012 19:53 - Mainly cuddle, actually.**

He's barely even pressed 'send' on the second message when his phone starts ringing, and with an apologetic look at Finn he jumps off the bed, walking into the hallway before he picks up.

"Blaine?"

" _Kurt?_ "

"Well, yeah, you kinda called me?" Kurt laughs. Just the sound of Blaine's voice already makes him feel calmer than fifteen minutes of movie time did, and he knows he wouldn't be able to keep the smile off his face even if he wanted to.

" _Yeah - of course, of course_ _,_ " Blaine says, sounding worried. " _I just - I thought maybe it'd be better to call than do the whole messaging thing._ _Are you alone - I mean, can you talk?_ "

"I'm alone, yeah - I was just watching a movie with Finn when you called," Kurt says, letting himself slide down against the wall, and he hears Blaine make a noise of surprise.

" _A movie with Finn?_ "

"He felt really bad about babbling," Kurt explains, "he came to my room to apologize - it was kinda sweet, really. And so now he's trying to cheer me up with a movie."

He laughs when Blaine seems to choke on his breath.

" _Oh dear god, that can't be good._ "

"It's not too bad actually," Kurt admits, a little surprised to find he actually means it, and he glances at Finn's doorway. "Ghostbusters, or something? It's kind of funny if you don't think too hard about it."

" _It is,_ " Blaine agrees. " _So what happened? Was it really that bad?_ "

"Worse," Kurt sighs, leaning his head back against the wall. "I mean, nothing unexpected - that I'm ruining my life, that I'm too compassionate for my own good, that you're- well..."

" _... a lying scoundrel who's after your virginity?_ " Blaine supplies helpfully.

"Something like that, yeah," Kurt says with a sour smile. "It's probably better he doesn't know I lost that card a long time ago... He kept on shouting and he just wouldn't listen to me. Like he's already made up his mind and there's nothing I can do to change it."

" _You're his son, Kurt, he's just trying to protect you_."

"I know," Kurt sighs again, frustrated now. "I know. I just... it would have been nice if he would have at least  _tried_ to be happy for me, you know?"

" _I know. Do you- ... do you want me to come over? Maybe if I talk to him-_ "

"Oh no," Kurt immediately interrupts him, the mere thought of Blaine showing up on his doorstep enough to make his heart skip a couple of beats. "No, Blaine, please don't. He doesn't actually have a gun but I've seen him do mean things with a wrench and trust me - you  _really_ don't want to be near him right now."

There's a short silence at the other side of the line, and for a moment Kurt's afraid he might have involuntarily insulted Blaine, but then there's a heavy sigh.

" _Okay - okay. Just trying to help. But... eh... you know you can always come here, right? Not that I'm too big on doing the whole 'meet the parents' thing any time soon - not that I don't want you to meet my parents either, because I do, I mean- I- anyway, what I'm trying to say is I hadn't even taken off my coat and they were already asking about you, so if you'd come over I don't think they'll mind or anything._ "

Blaine's rambling, but despite himself and the whole situation Kurt can't help but smile. This is by far the warmest he's ever heard Blaine talk about his mom and dad, and it's somehow comforting to know that even though he's not exactly on good terms with his own dad right now, Blaine and his parents at least might be on their way to making things right again.

"So they're still talking to you?" he asks, a little teasingly, and then, when he hears Blaine make a non-committal sound that he supposes is a confirmation: "And you're talking to them? Like,  _really_  talking?"

" _I'm trying_ ," Blaine says, unable to keep the unwillingness out of his voice, and Kurt lets out a sigh. " _No, I am! I told them about Mael. And I- I told them about the Christmas Spectacular. That I'll be speaking, I mean._ "

Kurt's jaw drops, and he's suddenly glad he's sitting, because he hadn't expected this.

"Wow," he says, trying but failing to hide his shock. "Wow. That's... wow. So-uh... what did they say?"

" _My dad actually went looking for his old camera so you can tape it for them to watch later_ ," Blaine says lowly, but Kurt can tell he's not actually mad. " _You better feign a complete inability to operate electronic equipment because there's no way any of that evening is going on tape. I'm nervous enough as it is._ "

"I still don't see what you're so nervous about. You'll be  _fine_ , promise," Kurt repeats for what he's sure must be the thousandth time already, even though he can almost hear Blaine roll his eyes at him. "You're going to do great and everyone's going to love you. They already do anyway."

" _Yeah, well, I'd rather not think about that now_ ," Blaine says curtly. " _But say, you really don't want me to come pick you up? Because it's no problem, promise._ "

"No, I'm fine," Kurt says resignedly, running his hands through his hair. "I rather get ready at your place than here - your parents will be out anyway, right? And then we can leave together. I'll probably be there around one, if that's ok?"

" _I was talking about right now, actually, but all right_ ," Blaine says, although he doesn't sound convinced. " _You're sure_?"

"Yeah, I'm sure," Kurt smiles. "And Blaine?"

" _Yeah?_ "

"Thanks for calling..."

" _Anytime. Good night, Kurt. I love you."_

"I love you too. Sweet dreams."

After he ends the call Kurt lets his head fall back against the wall, giving himself a few seconds to gather the energy to get back up and go back to Finn's room, but when he does he finds that, much to his surprise, Finn's engrossed in some book while the TV's on pause.

"You didn't have to stop the movie, I would've picked up on it along the way," Kurt says, getting onto the bed again, but Finn shrugs.

"It's not nice to miss a part of a movie. Not when you haven't seen it before."

He pauses, looking at Kurt as if he wants to ask something but is not sure he's allowed.

"So... eh... was that Blaine?" he finally dares, and Kurt nods - there's hardly a reason to lie about it, after all.

"It was. I told him about the fight with my dad and he just wanted to check, make sure I was fine. I said you were cheering me up."

Finn gives him a lopsided smile at the compliment and then puts his book away -some military manual, Kurt sees now- and takes the remote.

"I just- I'm happy for you guys, you know?" he says suddenly, turning to Kurt. "I don't know why Burt is giving you such a hard time about it because I think it's really nice you found someone too - you really deserve it. And Blaine's a nice guy. I mean - I know you had some trouble before, but Rachel said he was being really positive about it so I'm sure everything is going to be okay, you know?"

He pauses for a moment and then nods once, as if to punctuate his words, before he turns back to the screen, oblivious to the way Kurt's staring at him, eyes wide and mouth open, not sure what he wants to do first: hug Finn, or strangle Rachel. Seeing as Rachel had no right telling Finn about Blaine's status -she'd already toed the line by even telling him they were back together in the first place- he really feels she should get priority treatment. But then again Finn's easy acceptance -not to mention his obvious misinterpretation of Rachel's words which is strangely endearing- is just heartwarming.

Still...

Would Finn be as accepting if he knew Blaine was HIV positive? Would he still think Blaine was a 'nice guy' if he found out what had happened between him and Kurt in the spring?

 _When_  he finds out, Kurt suddenly realizes, not  _if_. Because Finn might be a little dense at times, he's not stupid: he already overheard one argument between Kurt and his dad, and all it would take would be one question for his dad -or Carole- to tell Finn the whole story - from  _their_  point of view. Which leaves Kurt little choice.

"Finn... ," he starts. There's a very good possibility he will regret it, he knows, but he can't risk Finn finding out about this any other way. And really, Finn deserves to hear this from him - they  _are_  brothers, after all.

"There's... uh... something I need to tell you," Kurt continues hesitantly, trying to ignore the expression of curiosity and apprehension that appears on Finn's face. "It's about Blaine. And me."

"It's not going to be a sex talk, is it?" Finn blurts out immediately, his eyebrows raised. "Because, I mean, Rachel explained to me how it works with dudes but I don't think I really want to know what you and Blaine-"

"No, Finn," Kurt sighs, though he can't hold back a small smile. "I promise I won't talk about sex."

 _Much_ , he supplies in his own head - he won't be able to tell this story without at least mentioning it, after all.

Finn seems to be able to read his mind, though, because he looks only mildly reassured.

"So... what  _do_  you want to talk to me about?" he finally asks, and it's only then that Kurt realizes they've been sitting in silence for quite some minutes.

The problem is there's quite a big difference between  _deciding_  to tell Finn, and  _actually_   _telling_  Finn - how to say it or where to start. Suddenly Kurt remembers Blaine scalding him when Kurt had accused him of being a coward for not wanting to tell others about his status. But he'd been right, Kurt realizes now: there simply was no good or easy way of breaking this news to anyone.

"It-uh... it's about Blaine," he repeats, looking down at his hands, and when he looks back up, he can see Finn watching him, the apprehension on his face replaced by worry.

"He didn't hurt you, did he?" he asks. "Because I can rally Puck, and Sam, and- no, not Sam, he's still in Australia, right? But Puck's here, and there's me, and-"

"Thanks, but that really won't be necessary," Kurt interrupts him before he can get carried away too much, although his heart swells a little at Finn's eagerness to come to Kurt's rescue if needed. "He didn't hurt me. Though I guess that depends who you ask."

The last sentence is whispered under his breath, and Finn frowns a little, but he doesn't comment on it.

"Finn... do you- do you know what HIV is?"

The question clearly takes Finn by surprise, but he nods nonetheless.

"Well yeah," he says. "We learned about it during first aid. You get it from, like...  _sex_. It's why you always have to use condoms, even when the girl is on birth control and everything. It's really nasty, like, once you have it it never goes away, and you have to take a lot of pills."

"Exactly," Kurt says, heaving an inward sigh of relief he doesn't have to explain that part anymore, at least, and at the same time bracing himself for the rest of the story. "Well... eh... remember- remember when Rachel told you Blaine was being 'positive'? She... she didn't mean that he was being positive about us. What she- Finn, what she meant was that...  _Blaine_ , is positive. HIV positive."

Kurt can almost pinpoint the exact moment when the implication of Kurt's words sinks in with Finn.

"Wow," Finn says, sounding almost astonished. "Wow. That's... that's not good. That's... wow. I mean- he- you- oh-god-you're-positive-too-now-aren't-you!"

"I'm- what? No! I-" Kurt starts, bewildered, but Finn doesn't even give him a chance.

"That's why Burt was shouting at you before, isn't it? That's why he's so angry with Blaine - because Blaine made you sick and so you broke up with him but you couldn't find another apartment or another boyfriend because it's too dangerous to have a boyfriend with HIV so you had to start dating Blaine again and yo-"

"STOP IT!" Kurt yells -actually  _yells_ -, and in an instant Finn is silent, watching Kurt with almost fearful eyes while Kurt himself is panting heavily, trying to get himself back under control after his outburst. But the connection Finn so spontaneously made hits just a little too close to the truth, and in that instant Kurt knows he has no choice: he can't just stop here - he has to tell Finn everything.

And so he does.

He tells Finn about the day he met Blaine on the staircase and 'Teenage Dream', about falling head over heels for the boy with the long eyelashes and the velvet voice, about confessing his love and being turned down. He tells him about Blaine being sick and about Jeremiah, about the happiness and elation he felt when he found out Blaine returned his feelings after all, and the confusion and hurt that followed when that didn't translate in the happily ever after he'd dreamed of. He talks about his senior year without Blaine, about getting over him and moving on only to fall even harder and faster when he went to New York and moved in with Blaine. He talks and talks and Finn listens, smiling here and there as Kurt recalls with a barely concealed quiver in his voice how he and Blaine finally got together, the happy memories of that period now tainted with everything that happened afterwards.

He tells Finn everything, not even leaving out Blaine's initial aversion to anything sexual and his own frustration about that, but when he gets to the part about the party even a deep breath can't keep him from stuttering and tripping over his own words.

"So... Blaine was drunk," Finn recaps when Kurt pauses for a moment, and Kurt nods. "But you weren't."

"I wasn't," Kurt confirms, before continuing a little more hesitantly: "And I kind of took a little advantage of that."

It takes a second, but then Finn's eyes widen.

"I was frustrated, all right!" Kurt says defensively before Finn can say anything, "and he was drunk and willing and I-... I-..." He takes a breath. "I blew him..."

He's whispered the last sentence, but to his surprise Finn doesn't really react to the reveal. Until Kurt finishes the sentence.

"... and I swallowed."

"You  _whát_?" Finn exclaims, equal parts shock and surprise. "K-Kurt, why would you do that? That's not safe, even I know that! I mean, you should've used a condom in the first place, but even if you didn't... Kurt, that guy has HIV!"

"Well I didn't know that, did I!" Kurt shouts back, watching as Finn opens his mouth to reply and then closes it again awkwardly. "I didn't know, Finn! Where in my story did I tell you about Blaine disclosing to me?"

But Finn remains silent, looking at Kurt with his jaw slightly dropped, and Kurt continues.

"Exactly. He didn't. He never told me, Finn, I didn't know. And yeah, I should have known better, yeah, I should have used a condom. But I didn't."

"So you  _are_  HIV positive too, now," Finn says, and Kurt shakes his head.

"The next morning when Blaine woke up he took me to the hospital once he realized what happened, and they got me on therapy. If you've been exposed to HIV you can lower your chances of getting infected by starting up therapy within-"

"-within 72 hours," Finn finishes Kurt's sentence for him. "I know, our first aid teacher told us. So... you're all right?"

"I'm all right," Kurt confirms, making a mental note to send a thank-you note to whomever it was that decided that HIV/AIDS education should be part of the military first aid curriculum.

"But you still broke up with him."

There's a few seconds of silence before Kurt replies to Finn's unspoken question, and he sighs.

"It was just a really hard time for me. Finding out that Blaine had HIV, that I could have it too, that Blaine hadn't told me about it... I felt like he didn't trust me. Like  _I_  had made a mistake trusting  _him_. And I... I just needed some time to process it all."

"And you've processed it now?"

Kurt nods, but from the way Finn's looking at him he can see that his stepbrother is far from convinced.

"But isn't that... I mean... aren't you angry that he didn't tell you that he was sick? Aren't you scared there's other things he's not telling you?"

"Not really," Kurt says without thinking. "Well, I  _was_ angry, of course. Very angry, even. But he... he loves me, Finn. I  _know_  that. I feel it every time he kisses me, every morning when I open my eyes and I find him smiling at me, every Sunday when he comes home from his gig and brings me flowers. He loves me, and he would never do anything to jeopardize our relationship. And keeping more secrets, hiding more things, would do just that. And so... and so I know. As long as he loves me, he'll never keep secrets. He might not always tell me everything straight away. But he will. When it counts, he will."

He's never before managed to explain to Rachel or Nick, or even himself, how he can be so confident that Blaine won't repeat his mistakes, but now that he's said it out loud he knows it's true: even when his trust in Blaine faltered, his trust in their love for each other never disappeared. And as long as they have that, he knows they can make it.

Finn, however, doesn't exactly have that.

"Soo... ," Kurt tries carefully, "aren't  _you_  angry with Blaine? Or convinced he's gonna hurt me?"

Finn seems to think it over for a few seconds, but then he shrugs.

"Well, I would be angry with him, but  _you_  don't seem to be and you're smarter than I am, so that means I shouldn't be either, right? And if he really loves you as much as you say he does, I don't think he would hurt you. Not on purpose. Besides, when Blaine called you you started glowing like a lovestruck firefly dancing the conga. I know because that's how the boys say I look when Rachel calls me."

Kurt can't help it - the analogy makes him burst out laughing, and within seconds Finn is grinning along with him, clearly pleased with himself he managed to make Kurt laugh.

"I like those boys already," Kurt hiccups, sending himself in another giggling fit when he imagines Finn looking like a lovestruck firefly dancing the conga, and Finn immediately reaches for his cell.

"They're awesome - I'll show you! Look - this is Jimmy, but we all call him Peacock. See, first week of basic he was..."

Finn launches himself into a story about exactly how Jimmy received the ridiculous nickname, flashing through pictures on his phone, and it's only after Finn makes him gasp in horror with another story -this time about some officer running over a couple of privates with his car- that Kurt realizes they haven't talked about Blaine at all anymore. It's both strange and relieving, the way Finn reacted to the whole situation, and Kurt's not sure if it is because he hasn't quite understood what it all means for Kurt, to be dating an HIV positive man, or because he genuinely trusts Kurt's judgement of the situation over his own. Whichever it is though, it seems that Finn, at least, is on his side.

Maybe the Christmas holidays won't be so bad after all.

 


	21. Chapter 20

" _Heymmmppphhhhhh"_  is about all Blaine manages before Kurt cuts him off, pressing his lips against Blaine's and pushing him back until Blaine's back hits the wall of the hallway with a soft thud.

"Kurt... Kurt I- Kurt, Kurt stop!"

Blaine laughs, pushing back Kurt who keeps trying to bridge the gap between them, eyes closed and lips pursed as he leans his full weight against Blaine's hands.

"Kurt, what are you doing?"

"I've missed you," is Kurt's only reply, and Blaine laughs again.

"It's only been like... 16 hours."

"I still missed you."

Once again Kurt pushes forward and this time Blaine's arms give out, leaving Kurt to collapse on top of Blaine. Blaine lets him, wrapping his arms around him and pressing a kiss against Kurt's hair, kicking out his leg to close the front door and keep out the cold December wind.

"How did things go with yo-"

"I don't want to talk about it," Kurt interrupts Blaine determinedly, burying his face a little deeper in the crook of Blaine's neck. "I was watching movies with Finn all night yesterday, and this morning I only got up after he left for the garage and I left before he got back for lunch. Which is why I'm early."

"Kurt..."

"I know!" Kurt pushes himself back a little so he can look at Blaine. "I know. He's just being an overprotective parent and I'm just being a stubborn brat but today is your day and I don't wanna think about me or my dad so just let me be a stubborn brat for one more day and then we'll talk, okay? Please?"

He's momentarily out of breath, having talked too fast, and from the way Blaine's looking at him Kurt can tell he's not too happy about Kurt's unwillingness to talk, but to his relief Blaine nods anyway.

"All right," he finally says, pressing a small kiss on the tip of Kurt's nose. "We'll talk later. So, what do you wanna do? Have you eaten already?"

"No..." Kurt says slowly, teasing with his finger along the row of buttons of Blaine's shirt. "But my stomach can wait. I haven't seen you in 16 hours and we have the house to ourselves... we  _do_  have the house to ourselves, right?"

"Gary and Ben are off to visit Ben's grandmother in Columbus," Blaine confirms with a nod, "and my parents left about two hours ago for dinner with my grandparents at  _The Royal Court_ , which means they're probably enjoying the  _'Shell fish bouillon with lemon verbena and oyster leaves'_  as we speak. Well, either that or something equally expensive and tasteless."

"Perfect..."

Kurt leans forward just a little and Blaine immediately responds, parting his lips to kiss Kurt back eagerly, and they probably wouldn't have stopped any time soon if Kurt's stomach hadn't chosen that exact moment to make clear exactly where its priorities lay, making Kurt drop his head against Blaine's shoulder in frustration. But Blaine just laughs.

"Seems like your stomach can't wait after all," he teases, ducking expertly under Kurt's arm. "Come on, let's grab a bite."

"But I'm  _not hungry_ ," Kurt whines feebly even as he grabs Blaine's outstretched hand, but another growl of his stomach and Blaine's subsequent eye roll don't leave him much choice, and he lets himself be dragged to the kitchen.

The kitchen turns out to be at the other side of the house, and as Kurt follows Blaine's lead he allows himself to take a look around: even if he's dropped Blaine off and picked him up on a number of occasions, he's never actually been  _inside_  his house before. It's not as big as he'd had expected it to be, and even though it's clear good money has been paid for perfect color schemes and high-end furniture, it doesn't look uncozy at all.

"Want something to drink?" Blaine asks, already pulling the fridge open, and Kurt nods.

"Do you have juice or something?"

"We... should have," Blaine replies, suddenly hesitant as he pushes some bottles aside. "But as it appears we don't. I'm sure we have some in the basement, though, just a sec."

"Sure," Kurt says absently, still looking around at the kitchen which looks sadly unused, already imagining himself cooking here. It's not so much the appliances -which are surprisingly low quality in comparison with the rest of the furniture- but the sheer amount of space that appeals to him.

Well, that, and the marble counter top.

He's just lamenting the absence of any family pictures on the fridge when the door opens again - although it's not the one Blaine disappeared in.

"Blaine! Blaine, honey, we're back! You'll never believe wha-"

Kurt has only ever seen Blaine's parents once, at Blaine's graduation, but even if he hadn't there would have been no doubt in his mind as to who has just entered the kitchen: the woman in front is basically a shorter, female version of Blaine, while the tall, grayish white man that enters behind her reminds Kurt very much of Gary. Conversely, however, Blaine's parents don't seem to have any clue as to who he is, and for a few long, uncomfortable seconds, the three of them stare at each other in silence.

"Kurt, we're out of orange juice, but I- Mom! Dad! What are you doing here?"

Blaine has stopped short in the door opening, his hands, each carrying a carton of juice, falling limply by his side when Mrs. Anderson sends him a reprimanding look, and he continues in a much smaller voice.

"I- I mean, I didn't expect you to be home so soon?"

"Neither did we," Mrs. Anderson replies simply before she gestures at her husband whose white dress shirt sports a huge orange stain. "But there were some unforeseeable circumstances and we thought it best to deal with those before continuing our meal.  _I_  didn't expect  _you_  to be inviting guests over."

The tone of her voice, like her words, is formal, though not unfriendly, and Kurt only wishes he could see her face so he could get a better idea of what she was thinking. But she's keeping her eyes fixed on Blaine, who's writhing under the attention.

"Oh- yes... it's not- I mean, it wasn't-..." Blaine stumbles through his sentences, trying to apologize and explain himself all at once whilst simultaneously trying to get rid of the cartons he's still holding, and it's all Kurt can do to step up himself.

"Pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Anderson, Mr. Anderson," he says, voice clear, although he's sure the tiny quiver doesn't escape Mrs. Anderson's attention. Then again, it doesn't seem like there's much that escapes her attention. "I'm Kurt- Kurt Hummel, I'm Blaine's..."

He hesitates for a moment, suddenly not sure how to introduce himself. Because even though he knows Blaine's parents are aware that Blaine and he are dating -and it was only yesterday Blaine had told him his parents wanted to meet him-, he also knows there's quite a difference between  _wanting_  to meet your son's boyfriend, and actually meeting him.

He needn't have worried, though.

"... boyfriend," Mrs. Anderson finishes his sentence for him, her face breaking open in a wide smile as she returns his handshake more firmly than he had expected from such a small, frail-looking person. "You're Blaine's boyfriend. It's very nice to finally meet you, Kurt. I wish I could say I heard all about you but unfortunately our Blaine isn't much of a talker."

She shoots a meaningful look at Blaine, who looks like he's about ready to sink through the ground, but she's not finished yet.

"I would also like to apologize on my son's behalf for yesterday. After such a long drive-"

"Mom!"

" _After such a long drive_ ," Mrs. Anderson repeats after another stern look at her son, "the least he could have done was invite you in for a cup of coffee. I like to think I raised him better than that, but ever since he went to live in that big city..."

"Mom, I told you: he didn't want to come in! And Gary-"

"It's not  _Gary's_  responsibility to take care of  _your_  boyfriend, Blaine," Mrs. Anderson interrupts him stringently, and Kurt has to bite his lip to keep himself from giggling - the whole scene is so ridiculously domestic it feels like he's walked in on the set of some bad 90s sitcom, and it's only the sight of an obviously embarrassed Blaine that gives Kurt the resolve to keep his face straight.

"Actually, Mrs. Anderson," he lies, though his heart is beating hard against his chest, "Blaine  _did_  invite me in. But it was getting late and I really wanted to see my family, and Blaine was kind enough to give me a rain check. I really didn't intend to insult your hospitality."

"Oh no, honey, of course you wanted to see your family!" The change in Mrs. Anderson's demeanor is immediate, turning from official spokesperson to overconcerned grandmother, and she puts her hand on Kurt's arm. It only makes Kurt feel all the more guilty for lying to her. "Blaine said he'd asked and you didn't want to, but between you and me I thought he might have made it up just to appease me. Don't look at me like that, Blaine, we both know you would."

She says the last sentence directly to a grumbling and still fiercely blushing Blaine, but before she can continue her husband taps her on the shoulder, pointing at his shirt and then towards the hallway, dragging her attention away from Kurt and Blaine for a moment, to the relief of both boys who exchange an exasperated look.

"... don't bother soaking this one," Kurt hears Mrs. Anderson say softly to her husband when he tunes back in, "it's ruined anyway. And I'm not letting you wear white again - take the gray one, it's-"

Maybe Kurt could have stopped the small gasp even if he'd tried a little harder, but the fact of the matter is that he hadn't, and he didn't, and so suddenly he finds himself at the end of that very same stern look he'd been pitying Blaine for just moments ago.

"Yes?" Mrs. Anderson asks.

"I-eh..." he starts, glancing at Blaine who is looking down, fiddling with his fingers and of absolutely no help. "I just... I mean, a gray shirt would be an excellent choice. A silver-type of gray, of course, not ash, but I'm sure you were thinking of that already."

He fully intends to keep it at that, but one look from Mrs. Anderson makes it clear she knows he was going to say something different and will not move until she hears it, and he takes a deep breath. He already told Mrs. Anderson one lie, it was probably better to stick to truths for the remainder of the conversation.

"Alternatively, if you would for example like to complement your dress," Kurt gestures at Mrs. Anderson's outfit, though he quickly drops his hand when he sees how much it is shaking, "you could maybe consider a more yellowish tone of shirt, a vanilla or cream color, perhaps? You could of course still combine with a gray tie, if you'd like."

He's suddenly trembling - he honestly doesn't know what he'd imagined his first conversation with his future mother-in-law would have been about, but he's pretty sure it didn't include him giving unsolicited fashion advice. By the looks of it, Blaine's mother has about the same idea, but there's nothing much else Kurt can do but to force himself to keep smiling, and stand up a little straighter.

"William," Mrs. Anderson says to her husband, without breaking eye contact with Kurt. "You should really go change. Take the Raf Simons shirt, you know: the one you wore at-"

"-senator Wilkins' third-"

"-fourth-"

"-fourth wedding. Yes, I know."

It's the first time Kurt hears Mr. Anderson speak, surprisingly soft for a man who easily reaches 6 feet, and oddly reminiscent of the way Blaine talks to  _him_  when he's trying to appease him.

Soon enough though Mr. Anderson has disappeared into the hallway, and Mrs. Anderson reclaims Kurt's full attention, asking him questions about school and his dad's stance on a bill Kurt honestly wasn't even aware was up for voting. And even though it can't be longer than five minutes before Mr. Anderson reappears with a new, perfectly ironed cream-colored shirt, it feels like an eternity has passed when finally -finally- Mrs. Anderson seems to remember they still have a lunch to finish, and they make to leave.

"Bye Blaine," she tells Blaine, pressing a kiss against his cheek. "Kurt - it was nice meeting you."

She holds out her hand and Kurt takes it, although he gets a little distracted when he sees how next to him Mr. Anderson squeeze Blaine's shoulder.

"Good luck tonight, son," he says, and Blaine nods. "Don't forget the camcorder - it's on the table in the hall. I charged the batteries last night so you should be good. Did you explain to Kurt how it works? Kurt, did he explain to you how to work the camera?"

"Eh- he... no, I mean-," Kurt stumbles over his words, feeling himself grow smaller under Mr. Anderson's amber gaze. "He-eh... he was just about to show me, actually."

Blaine's eyes widen, but there's nothing Kurt can do now, especially not when Mr. Anderson is beaming at him.

"Thank you," Mr. Anderson says gratefully, grabbing Kurt's hand, "I had a feeling he'd try to get out of it, you know, but I know I can count on you, right, Kurt?"

"Oh- a-absolutely," Kurt stutters. "It was nice to meet you, Mr. Anderson. Mrs. Anderson."

A final wave and smile, and then both Blaine's parents are finally out the door, and Kurt lets himself fall back against the counter.

"Oh. my. god," he sighs, chancing a smile at Blaine. "That was... intense."

"It was," Blaine confirms with a relieved sigh as he walks over to Kurt, wrapping his arms around his waist. "You did great though."

"I did?" Kurt makes a doubtful face. "I mean, it started out ok, but when I corrected your mother's choice of color I was sure she was ready to shoot me."

"Are you crazy? My mom loves you already. She does!" Blaine reiterates when Kurt looks at him skeptically. "My dad ended up with the cream shirt, didn't he? She never would have taken your advice if she didn't like you at least a little - trust me."

"I don't know," Kurt says hesitantly, feeling less confident about his first meeting with Blaine's parents the longer he thinks about it. "They didn't even, like, correct me on the whole 'Mr. and Mrs. Anderson' thing."

But to Kurt's surprise, Blaine starts laughing.

"Oh dear, if that's going to be your reference to determine whether you're considered part of the family, you're going to severely disappointed," he grins, tucking a stray strand of hair behind Kurt's ear. "Ben  _still_  calls them 'Mr. and Mrs. Anderson'."

"But he's been seeing Gary for-"

"-over four years," Blaine confirms, smiling at Kurt's astonishment. "So just... don't take it personally, it's my mom - some respect thing, I don't know. Either way, prepare to call her 'Mrs. Anderson' for the rest of your life."

Somehow the knowledge that even Ben, who Kurt knows for a fact gets along great with the Andersons, is still stuck in the formalities-phase, is mildly reassuring to Kurt. But even if he's still doubtful about Mrs. Anderson's opinion of him...

"I think I may have scored a point with your dad..."

"Yeah, what'd you do that for?" Blaine immediately exclaims, untangling himself from Kurt's embrace and giving him a playful push. "I told you I don't want it taped and then you pull _that_!"

"Well, what was I supposed to do?" Kurt yells back. He's laughing though, even if he still feels pushed a little into defense. "Basically the first thing I said to your mom was a lie, I wasn't gonna lie to your dad as well! I was just trying to be a good son-in-law..."

"Son-in-law?" Blaine smirks, laughing when Kurt sticks out his tongue in reply. "Why, Mr. Hummel, that's awfully forward of you wouldn't you think?"

" _Too_  forward?" Kurt teases, pulling Blaine closer by his sides while Blaine himself puts his finger against his lip, pretending to think.

"Not necessarily," he says slowly, "although I'd advise you to put the wishes of your potential husband before those of your potential father-in-law."

"Oh really?"

"Really," Blaine nods gravely. "Which leaves us with one question... however shall we solve the camcorder problem?"

"Well..." Kurt lets his finger trail down the row of button's on Blaine's shirt. "I know one thing we could tape all afternoon which would cause the batteries to not last until tonight..."

It takes Blaine exactly half a second before he gets it, and Kurt bursts out laughing when he sees Blaine stare back at him, his eyes widened comically.

"Seriously?"

"No," Kurt hiccups, still laughing, "but it was worth it to see your face. So maybe- I should... remember that for... future reference."

The words bring a deep blush to Blaine's cheeks, rivaled only by the heat Kurt can feel tingling under his own skin - not to mention the increasing tightness in his pants. They don't often do this: even if they're slowly getting more and more comfortable with the physical aspect of their relationship, sex is still a serious issue, something that needs to be discussed rather than joked about, and so the teasing that has so casually slipped off of Kurt's tongue suddenly hangs heavy between them.

"F-food!" Blaine breaks the impasse, stepping back and trailing his hand through his hair. "We were- we were going to have some food. Before... before my parents... came in."

"Food! Yes- yes... right- food."

They're both too embarrassed to really look at each other, but when Kurt catches Blaine peeking at him from under his arm as he pretends to look for something in the fridge they both burst out in a giggling fit. And just like that the tension between them is broken again, and Kurt bites his lip as he discreetly tries to rearrange himself. The mention of Blaine's parents and the idea of them showing up unannounced a second time was enough to chase any and all inappropriate thoughts and plans away, but just the fact they were able to joke about it makes him feel like he's floating on air. Either way he's sure they'll find other things to fill their afternoon with.

And they do.

They eat, of course, and then Blaine attempts -and fails- to teach Kurt how to play snooker, which leads Kurt to demand they watch The Notebook as compensation, which in turn leads to them watching some jazz documentary which happens to be on when the movie ends and which Blaine insists on watching.

All in all it's a relaxing day, but as they start getting ready for the Christmas Spectacular Blaine is getting increasingly nervous, and Kurt cringes when he hears Blaine yell at the other end of the hall.

" _Stupid stupid t-_ "

"Everything ok?" he asks, leaning around the corner of the bathroom door.

"The stupid tie just. won't.  _tie_ ," Blaine says angrily, tugging at the offending item with every word, and Kurt dashes forward, turning Blaine away from the mirror and towards him as he swats away Blaine's hands to fix the tie himself.

"There," he says barely thirty seconds later, giving a small pat on Blaine's chest, "done."

Blaine mumbles something indistinguishable under his breath and then turns back towards the mirror, leaning forward to inspect Kurt's handiwork although his attention is quickly diverted to his hair, his eyebrows, his cheeks.

"You look  _fine_ , Blaine," Kurt says, dragging him away from the mirror once more and putting his hands on his shoulders to steady him. "And you're going to do great. I really don't see why you're so nervous about this all of a sudden, you've spoken in public plenty of times before."

"I've  _sung_ in public plenty of times before," Blaine corrects him, "I don't usually speak. This isn't like... copy-pasting a song that somebody else made into a success already, this is  _me_. In front of almost all of my friends. And the joke of course is I can't even show them it's me..."

He's writhing, trying to escape Kurt's grip to check himself in the mirror, check whether the paper with his written down speech is really in his pocket, check whether his cufflinks are still shining - check everything just one more time, just one more time.

"Of course you can show them it's you!" Kurt exclaims. "You care about this project, right? You want to educate people and inform them, don't you? Well, then? You may not show them  _all_  of you, but it's still gonna be  _you_. I mean, you sang Teenage Dream to me in your usual register even though you have a mean falsetto, but that doesn't mean it wasn't an honest performance, now does it?"

"No..." Blaine grumbles unwillingly, and Kurt leans forward, using one finger to turn Blaine's face towards him to kiss him. It's just a simple touch of their lips, but Kurt can almost feel Blaine relax next to him.

"You'll be great," he whispers, pressing their foreheads together for just a second before he pulls back. "Just... stick to what you've written, be your charming, dreamy self, and everything will be fine. Now come on... we don't want to be late."

-o0o-

They're still late, although not fashionably so, and the Central Hall is already buzzing with laughter and voices, each trying to overpower the other as the attendees exchange stories of the past year, anecdotes that aren't really funny but that everyone laughs at anyway.

One boy, his Dalton uniform clearly fresh from the dry cleaners, takes their coats while another offers them a drink, and Blaine can't help but stare at them. It's been only three years since he was in their position, a senior student proud to help at the big event, but it feels like a lifetime has passed since then. So many things have happened, both good and bad, but as he glances at Kurt he knows he can honestly say the good outweigh the bad by far.

Their arrival doesn't go unnoticed - the headmaster stops by for a second to confirm some details of the evening, but also their former classmates and even some of the older Warblers soloists come say 'hi'. Whether the news of their relationship has proceeded them or they really are that obvious, Blaine doesn't know, but everybody seems to know he and Kurt are officially together now and he quickly loses track of how many ' _Finally!_ 's and ' _I always said you would end up together!_ 's are directed at them. It's enough to almost makes him forget about his nerves, and it's only a few minutes before he finds himself joining in with the conversations around him, acknowledging the comments with his usual broad smile, now and again snaking his arm around Kurt's waist for good measure.

The only -or rather, first- hiccup of the night comes when Jeff quite literallycomes running up to them and all but throws himself around Blaine's neck.

"I just heard, man," Jeff says when he finally untangles himself from Blaine, gripping his shoulders, "and I just wanted you to know I am so proud of you. You're an inspiration to all of us, Blaine, you really are."

"Well, that's... very nice of you to say," Blaine laughs, only half succeeding in hiding his confusion. "It's just a presentation, though, to get me some extra credit, it's really not that big of a deal."

The reply seems to throw Jeff off for just a second, but he quickly recovers, giving Kurt a tight hug before excusing himself and leaving both men to frown at each other and then shrug - after all Jeff has never needed a rational reason to behave the way he does. Later though, Blaine will wonder whether it was thanks to Jeff that he even realized something was off.

Because after he gets whisked away from Kurt by the Dean to meet some of the main benefactors, and he finds himself being dragged from one influential alumnus to the next, that's when he starts noticing the other things - the looks and the stares and the whispers. It's nothing big - there's nobody pointing at him, nobody calling him names or going out of their way to avoid him. But he can't ignore the increasing nervousness that is building up in his body, can't shake the uneasy feeling that's come over him ever since Jeff's strange greeting, that constant awareness of being judged and scrutinized that he had gotten so familiar with the months before he transferred to Dalton. It's not the same, obviously: everyone here is perfectly polite to him, laughing at his jokes at all the right times, but there is something in the way they look him over when he is introduced to them - curiosity, unease, and even fascination, and even if Blaine rationally knows that there is no possible way that what he's dreading is true, his gut tells him differently.

He has to find Kurt.

.

After Blaine has left him to mingle with the more opulent part of the night's attendees -and really Kurt doesn't mind, the whole point of the evening is fundraising after all- Kurt finds himself standing a bit forlorn in the middle of the hall, until he spots Nick leaning against the opposite wall, a dopey smile on his face as he's typing away on his mobile phone.

"Who's the lucky one?" Kurt teases as he goes to stand beside him, but when Nick starts blushing and immediately puts away his phone, Kurt gasps.

"Oh my god, there IS a lucky one!" he exasperates, automatically reaching for Nick's pocket even as Nick turns away and tries to shush him. "How long has this been going on? Oh god, I can't believe you didn't even tell me! Where di-"

"Will you just shut up?" Nick hisses, blushing even more furiously than he was before, trying to hold on to his phone. "Not everybody needs to know, all right?"

Kurt does lower his voice a little at that, although he doesn't let go of the phone.

"Well,  _I_ need to know," he insists. "How long have you been going out? Where did you meet? Come on, Nick,  _at least_  tell me if it's a guy or a girl!"

Nick laughs - a little, bashful laugh that reminds Kurt of when  _they'd_  first started dating, and even if he's more than happy with Blaine, he feels a small jolt of jealousy for whoever it is that managed to bring back that smile on Nick's face.

"There's nothing  _to_  tell, really," Nick finally gives in, although the way he bites his lip contradicts his words. "We met through a mutual friend a couple of weeks back, and then we kind of ran into each other again in the club last weekend. We haven't even gone on an actual date yet."

"But you like them," Kurt says, states, and he smiles when he sees Nick duck his head and bite his lip.

"I do," Nick nods. "I really, really like him."

"Oooo... so it's a 'him'!"

Kurt can't help himself: he throws his arms around Nick's neck. Because Nick hasn't really had a relationship to speak of since he and Kurt broke up; and even though it's not something he ever complained about or even looked for, claiming he was happy to enjoy his single life as long as it lasted, it makes Kurt all the more excited to actually hear Nick talk this way about another person.

"Oh Nicky I'm so happy for you!"

"Hey, we're not married just yet." Nick laughs, although he gladly accepts Kurt's hug. "But I'm happy for me too."

"So, do you have a picture? Can I see? You  _have_  to introduce us, don't you let him touch you before he gets the Kurt Hummel seal of approval, you hear?"

Kurt's bouncing up and down, so absorbed by his own excitement he doesn't notice the shadow that falls over Nick's face.

"No, I-eh... don't," Nick says slowly. "Have a picture. Yet. But you'll eh... you'll meet him. Sooner or later. Promise."

"I'm gonna keep you to that," Kurt winks. "But talking about boyfriends, have you seen mine? In all my excitement I seem to have lost sight of him..."

He's tip-toeing, holding on to Nick for support, and they both catch sight of Blaine at almost the exact same moment.

"There he is!"

Kurt sighs, smiling as he watches Blaine work his charm on the Dean's wife.

"Look at him," he says dreamily, "he's getting nervous for his speech again, I can tell. But god, I am so proud of him. He's gonna do great, don't you think?"

"Definitely," Nick agrees. "And he's certainly come a long way. I mean - I really didn't expect him to be so open about the whole thing: less than a year ago he was afraid to even talk to you about his status, and now he'll be talking about it in front of an auditorium full of friends and former classmates. But that's Blaine Anderson for you."

He raises his glass in a toast, but when he sees Kurt stare at him in shock he frowns.

"What?"

"Blaine's not gonna talk about himself," Kurt finally manages, his heart racing in his chest, praying to every god he doesn't believe in that he's misunderstood. "He's just giving a speech for his internship, he's not disclosing. Who did you tell he was disclosing?"

"Hey, I didn't tell anyone anything!" Nick throws up his hands defensively. "But like, Trent came up to me and-"

" _Trent_  told you?" Kurt cuts him off, incredulous. "How on Earth would  _Trent_  know anything about  _Blaine_?"

Nick shrugs.

"Hell if I know, he said heard Logan and Kyle talk about it. But what did you m-"

"Kyle?"

Kurt knows Logan -everyone knows Logan- but the name of Kyle doesn't sound anywhere near familiar.

"Yes,  _Kyle_ ," Nick says impatiently. "You know? David's little brother? Now how do you mean 'Blaine's not disclosing'?"

But Kurt's not even listening anymore, his ears ringing as his mind connects the dots and the panic and guilt start rising in his chest.

Because he was the one who convinced Blaine to step up tonight.

He was the one who promised Blaine nobody would find out.

"I have to find Blaine."

-o0o-

"They know," Blaine hisses at Kurt when he suddenly pops up at his side. "My status - they know. I don't know why, or how, but they know. Most of the Warblers, at least, but word is going around."

He bites his lip as he leads them to a more quiet corner of the room, forcing a smile and a wave when they pass the headmaster.

"I know you're gonna tell me I'm crazy and that it's just my nerves and that I'm imagining things, but Kurt, I swear, there's s-"

"I know."

There's something definitive about Kurt's tone, a sad sort of finality that makes Blaine stop short, because that isn't what Kurt was supposed to say. As much as Blaine just denied it, Kurt was supposed to say that Blaine is crazy. He was supposed to comfort Blaine, to say he's seeing ghosts, that it's all just a product of his imagination.

He wasn't supposed to say-

"I was just talking to Nick; he heard it from Trent, who apparently heard it from Kyle, who I'm gonna guess got it from David. Blaine- Blaine, I'm so sorry, I-"

"Fuck!"

It's not true. It  _can't_  be true - it simply can't be, but when Blaine looks up at Kurt he can see it in his eyes anyway: the guilt and the panic and the worry, the undeniable reality of the fact that it's out.

His secret -his biggest secret- is out.

And so Blaine swears. He can't even remember if he's ever really sworn before in his  _life_ , but he's swearing now; under his breath, as silently as he can manage so as not to draw too much attention, but still, he's swearing, and contrarily to what he's been told it's not helping in the least.

"God, Kurt, what am I going to  _do_?"

But his only answer is silence, and two strong arms holding him.

.

The next hour passes in a haze for Blaine. He talks, and eats, but it's as if it's someone else doing all those things. Because all he can think about whenever someone instigates a conversation is  _'This person knows_.  _They know I'm HIV positive. They know I messed up. They know who I am.'_. He knows to anyone else it might seem silly, but not having control over who knows his best-kept secret is unsettling to say the least. He remembers all too well the stares and the whispers, the accusations of 'slut' and 'whore' that had followed him through the halls of his first high school.

"You look like someone took all your bow ties, dunked them in hair gel and then set them on fire."

The words are whispered into his ear; the tone light but the underlying concern clearly present.

"That good, ha?" he tries to joke back, sending Kurt a wry smile, and he closes his eyes for a second when he feels Kurt's hand on his thigh.

"Don't worry so much," Kurt tells him. "You're going to do a great job, I know you will."

"But they _know_ , Kurt," Blaine says, exasperating a little. "This was supposed to be just a fundraiser that I was speaking at but now they know and it's turned into poor little Blaine Anderson scraping money together to save his ass and I-"

"Hey!" Kurt interrupts him firmly, pushing his chair back a little so he can turn more fully towards Blaine. "Stop thinking about that! Who cares if they know - that's not what's important. What's important is that in five minutes you're going to be on that stage, speaking out for a cause that's very near and dear to you. What's important is that everyone in this room is gonna see you up there - someone who's successful, and happy, and  _healthy_ , regardless of his HIV status."

But Blaine shakes his head.

"That's not what they're gonna see, Kurt. They're gonna see a guy who was stupid enough to have unprotected sex and is now asking them for money so he can clear his conscience by doing some small-scale prevention project."

"No, they're not," Kurt says, holding up his hand when he sees that Blaine is about to protest. "They're not gonna see that because that's not what this is about. This isn't about you, Blaine. This is about HAPE. This is about that teenage girl that doesn't know how to work up the courage to tell her boyfriend she wants them to use a condom. This is about the dad who doesn't know what to do when his son refuses to take his pills anymore. And you're nothing but the spokesperson. A very handsome and charming spokesperson who happens to have personal experience on the matter, but a spokesperson nonetheless."

Blaine smiles and ducks his head at the compliment, not looking up until he feels Kurt's hand cupping his cheek.

"You don't need to convince them to give money to you, Blaine, you need to convince them to give money to  _HAPE_  - to those kids, and their parents, to the schools and the projects. Look, there's what... a thousand people here? Fifteen hundred, maybe? There's no way word has traveled that fast, not even here. I bet half of them still have no idea. And you know what? Even if they do, it will probably only give them confidence that you know what you're talking about, and that you know what you're doing. So... don't worry, all right? You're amazing, you're gonna do great, and they're gonna love you."

"What did I ever do to deserve you?"

The wonder in his voice surprises even Blaine, and when he looks back up he can see his own starstruck gaze reflected in Kurt's eyes.

"You started being honest with me," Kurt tells him smiling, adjusting his lapel. "Even if it took you a while. Now... go get them."

A short, but firm press of Kurt's lips against his own is all the time Blaine gets before he realizes that, behind him, the headmaster had been giving his introductory speech and is now announcing Blaine's presentation.

"... so may I ask you to bring your hands together for our main speaker of tonight: Blaine Anderson!"

There's a warm applause and Blaine gets up almost automatically - for all his nervousness he would never feel out of place as the center of attention. He rolls his eyes at the wolf whistles of his former fellow Warblers, but there's a smile on his face when he climbs the stage, and he forces himself to calm down a little as he takes his place at the microphone and folds out the papers with his speech.

He's lost count of the number of times he's been on this very stage as a Warbler, but things are different now. There are no other voices to guide him, there's no choreography to focus on when he starts feeling lost. It's only him, his speech, and the people in front of him, looking at him expectantly.

"Good evening," he starts. "And thank you, Mr. Davis, for inviting me here tonight."

He nods at his old headmaster before returning his attention to his audience.

"Currently in the US, there are about 1.2 million people living with HIV/AIDS. Over 200,000 of them are not aware of their infection, and every year, 50,000 new diagnoses are made. Almost 40% percent of those are young people, between 13 and 29 years old. The age group of 20-24 even has the highest rate of HIV diagnoses out of all age groups. Not only young people, but in particular, young, gay African Americans and Latinos and youths of all minorities and ethnicities are disproportionally affected by HIV. Unfortunately, these are also the groups with smaller support systems, both financially and psychosocially, which, in combination with a general climate of stigmatization, can often result in patients not receiving the help they need, patients unwilling or unable to follow therapy, or even patients unaware of their infection."

Blaine lets his eyes trail over his audience, and as he catches sight of Kurt he sees him stick up his two thumbs right in front of his stomach. It gives him a little boost of confidence, but he still takes a deep breath before glancing back down at his papers to continue. He's used to audiences that cheer and whistle, that let Blaine take them with him into a song, but his current audience just sits and listens politely, and everything about it feels wrong.

Then again, maybe that's the difference between singing and talking on stage.

"Prevention of HIV/AIDS in young people is lacking for several reasons. Firstly, the age of sexual initiation has decreased substantially. 46% of high school students report having had sexual intercourse, and over one third of them admitted to not using condoms. This situation is particularly serious for young gay and bisexual men, since information on sexual orientation is often excluded from sex education programs. This, in combination with increasing rates of substance usage and an astounding lack of awareness, puts young people at an exceptionally high risk of HIV infection."

It's not working. Blaine is not even sure anymore what he was trying to achieve with this speech, but whatever it was, it's not working. His words sound flat, and he's sure half of the people in front of him have not taken in even a word of what he's been saying. The expectation he'd seen on so many faces when he'd walked up on stage is mostly gone, replaced by polite smiles and bored stares, and he struggles to understand what he's doing wrong - he's never had a problem to get an audience on his hand before.

But this isn't what they had expected, he realizes suddenly. Because if they  _know_... if they know then what they'd expected was a testimony. Instead he's giving them a lecture; which would have been perfect had he given it for his fellow students at NYU, but not so much for an audience consisting mostly of middle aged alumni looking for a good cause to spend their Christmas bonuses on.

Still there's one face in the crowd that stands out: Kurt is still beaming at him, either unaware of Blaine's miniature crisis or choosing to ignore it, and Blaine can't help but wonder again how he managed to get him to give him a second chance.

_You started being honest with me. Even if it took you a while._

But being honest was hardly a tactic he could use now, was it? Because who knows what they would think about him, what they would say about him behind his back? Who knows how they'd start treating him, how they'd judge him?

_This isn't about you, Blaine._

Kurt's words resonate in his head, and even though right now it doesn't feel like it Blaine knows they're right: it  _isn't_  about him. It could be about anyone in this room, though; keeping in mind the statistics Blaine just rattled off there is no way that not a single person in front of him has never had unprotected sex. Glancing over at the Warblers' table and seeing Kurt and David, he knows for a fact there's at least two people who have.

Blaine had played and lost, but the people in front of him had played and won, afforded the luxury of thinking that the risk they had taken was negligible, rather than realizing they had lucked out.

As he starts slowly rolling up his speech Blaine holds Kurt's gaze, hoping that he will understand what Blaine wants to do - what he  _needs_ to do if he really wants this evening to be a success.

And he does. He really, really does.

It takes Kurt a couple of seconds to catch on, his eyes widening just a little when he sees the fumbled paper in Blaine's hands, but when their gazes lock again, Blaine sees nothing but support, and a single question.

_Are you sure about this?_

Blaine hesitates for only a moment before he nods, almost imperceptibly, but Kurt must have seen it because the corners of his mouth lift in an encouraging smile and he sits up a little straighter, his eyes shining and radiating so much love and confidence Blaine has to forcibly remind himself this is not the time to go running at his boyfriend and ravish him. And so he clears his throat, letting his gaze trail over the audience in front of him before he lifts his voice, bright and clear.

"I was diagnosed with HIV at the age of 16."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The numbers and figures are based on real statistics I got from the US gov website, and thus, unfortunately, the problems stated by Blaine are actual, real-life issues. There are, of course, many different ways to interpret statistics, but the increased risk for young people of color, especially gay and bisexual men, is not a myth.


	22. Chapter 21

_"I was diagnosed with HIV at the age of 16."_

The change in atmosphere in the room is almost instantaneous - heads snapping towards the stage and whispered conversations halted at Blaine's announcement. It's not the HIV part but rather Blaine's age that seems to cause most shock though, and the Warblers especially are glancing at each other as if to ask  _Did you know about this?_

"Disclosing to my parents was one of the hardest things both they and I ever had to go through," Blaine continues, trying his best to ignore the commotion, "and it placed a very heavy burden both on my relationship with my parents and on our family as a whole."

He's shaking, his old speech softly crackling in his clenched fists as he tries to get his nerves under control. He hasn't really thought it through, hasn't really thought about what to say after disclosing, but for the first time since he got up on stage the audience in front of him is listening to him, actually _listening_  to him, and he knows he's made the right choice.

"When a teenage girl has to confess to her parents that she is pregnant, they are faced with a very difficult decision," he says, his voice gaining in strength and confidence the longer he talks. "When she has to confess she has HIV, there is no decision to be made. HIV cannot be cured, it cannot be taken away or given up for adoption. HIV stays with you for the rest of your life, and it impacts every single relationship you will ever have.

"Learning to live with HIV is hard for anyone, but it is particularly hard for young people. As you dream and fantasize about the future, suddenly the question is not 'what will my husband look like?' but rather 'will he still want to marry me once he finds out?'. It's not 'how many kids will I have?', but rather 'am I even be able to have kids?'. You don't think 'I wonder if I will still be best friends with her after high school' but 'I'm scared she won't want to be my best friend anymore when I tell her'.

"And what do you do when that cute boy asks you out? How do you explain to the school nurse that you'd prefer to tend to that scraped knee yourself? What do you do when you return from a competition with your school's show choir and you get stuck in traffic without the dinner you need to take your pills on time?"

Out of the corner of his eye Blaine can see how Jeff elbows David, their eyes and those of about half of the other Warblers widening when they hear the well-known anecdote from Blaine's perspective for the first time, and he takes a deep breath.

"Next year I will be interning at HAPE, one of many organizations who work for and with HIV/AIDS patients, but one of the few who focus on young people. At HAPE, lives are changed every day. By bringing teenagers and their parents together and showing them they are not alone, we give them hope, and the confidence they need to believe that they can have a normal life, too. Just last summer an HIV positive friend of mine gave birth to a beautiful, healthy, HIV negative girl. I myself am living proof that it is possible to build up a loving long-term relationship when you're positive." He smiles at Kurt, who's turned an adorable shade of pink. "To anyone else, these are just simple stories, but to the boy or girl who's just had their world turned upside-down by the diagnosis of HIV, they are everything.

"One of HAPE's most important activities is to provide one-on-one counseling sessions, both in person and through a dedicated hotline, and part of my internship will consist of expanding this service to include an internet-based chat application, to further lower the threshold for those who need help or information. Should you be kind enough to donate tonight, this is where your money will be put to use: to help pay for servers and keeping the website up and running, and to provide training for the many volunteers who dedicate their time and energy on a regular basis to HAPE.

"But we need more. We need more than just aftercare, because even though numbers show that the rise of new HIV infections has been stopped, prevention and awareness are key if we want to achieve a decline. The young age at which many teenagers start experimenting with sex necessitates sex ed programs directed at not just high schoolers, but also middle schoolers and even primary schoolers. Special programs are needed to reach those groups that are most at risk, and are unfortunately also most likely to be overlooked by HIV interventions.

"Currently, HAPE is leading projects in over 30 states, and more than 1200 families have already benefited from the support we have to offer. With your help, we will be able to expand this number, and reach even more people. In the name of all of them, and myself, I ask you to please consider donating to this wonderful, and necessary, cause, so that we can keep doing what we do best: giving hope. I thank you for your attention, and I wish you happy holidays."

The applause thunders through the hall, louder than Blaine's ever heard it before - and that's including the time he placed sixth at Nationals with The Warblers. Still, to Blaine it sounds distant, as if he's under water, and everything seems to play out in slow motion: stepping back from the microphone, the headmaster thanking him, walking down the stairs and out on the floor to see a good number of people are actually standing, including the Dean and his wife. They're clapping -they all just keep on clapping- but Blaine hardly pays them any attention.

Because there, right next to his seat, is Kurt, beaming at him, and Blaine doesn't think as he walks up to him and wraps his arms around him.

"God what have I done?" he whispers, voice trembling though he can't seem to stop smiling. Because he knows what he's done, and what's even better: he doesn't regret it even one bit.

"You were you," Kurt tells him as he pulls back and takes Blaine's face in his hands, "you were finally, unashamedly and completely,  _you_."

There's a thousand people in that room watching them but Blaine doesn't care, leaning in to press his lips against Kurt's long and hard, and it isn't until he hears Nick wolf whistle that he pulls away in embarrassment, burying his face in the crook of Kurt's neck.

He still can't quite believe that it actually happened, that it wasn't a dream. Most importantly though, it wasn't a nightmare either. Because  _Blaine_  did it. Even if the news had already spread, Blaine had been the one to take the decision to actually talk about it: he had been the one to come out, he had been the one to disclose in front of a room full of people, friends and strangers alike.

And they're actually applauding him for it.

Somehow the secret he'd fought so hard to keep, his biggest source of insecurity, had turned from something to be ashamed of into something that gives him authority and credibility. And more than that, Blaine realizes now: speaking up about his HIV has given him responsibility.

There's a shiver running down his spine at the realization. Because there's no way back now, he knows, there's no way he'll ever be able to hide his status again. But then there's a soft press of lips against his temple, and a whisper in his ear.

_I have never been more proud of you._

And for the first time in a long time, Blaine feels like someone to be proud of.

.

The rest of the evening passes in a daze for Blaine. Apart from the 30 seconds he manages to escape for a quick toilet break he's constantly either talking to someone, or listening to them, and it's exhausting and exhilarating both at once. At times it's also infuriating, however, because even though the response is overwhelmingly positive, Blaine can't shake the feeling of suspicious eyes on his back, of shocked whispers just out of earshot. But over the course of the evening he loses count of the number of people who ask for contact details to either start up a new project in their neighborhood or volunteer at an existing one, and when the Dean slips him a $5000 cheque he silently promises himself he won't let a few whispers and stares make him regret his decision.

The only moment he almost breaks his promise comes the first time someone asks Kurt whether he's positive too. Kurt must feel him stiffen up because he immediately tightens his hold around Blaine's waist, pulling him back just a little, and before Blaine even has the chance to say or do anything Kurt calmly explains that no, he's not positive, and no, he's not afraid he's ever going to be. He actually manages to make a little joke about it, and Blaine places his hand on Kurt's in gratitude, squeezing softly as he plasters a smile on his own face.

He's going to have to get used to this, he realizes, if he's going to continue to speak up and share his story. He's going to have to get used to people asking questions about him and Kurt, questioning and probably judging the sanity of their decision to be together, and he's going to have to learn to just... let it go. It's a price he's willing to pay, he thinks, but it's not one he wants  _Kurt_ to pay.

The hard and inevitable truth is of course that Kurt still pays it. But, even Blaine has to admit, he pays it the Kurt Hummel way: with style and grace. Because he doesn't leave Blaine's side once, answering questions and encouraging donations and generally networking with an ease and grace even the First Lady would be jealous of, and Blaine knows there's no one else he'd rather be doing this with.

After all, there's no one else he would have been able to do it without.

-o0o-

"Kurt? Kurt, wake up, honey, we're here."

Blaine's voice reaches Kurt through the haze of his sleep-meddled brain, and he squeezes his eyes shut.

"Don't call me honey," he yawns, nuzzling back against the headrest, cuddling in a little closer to protect himself from the cold washing over him through the open car door.

"Seriously? Not 'let me sleep' or 'I don't wanna get out' but 'don't call me honey'?"

"Your mom calls you honey," Kurt mumbles, still refusing to open his eyes. "I don't want to think about your mom when you call me pet names."

"All right..." Blaine drawls, and Kurt opens a warning eye, already sensing by the tone of Blaine's voice that whatever Blaine is going to say next is going to annoy him. Obviously he has to work on his one-eyed glare, though, because... " _cupcake_."

" _Blaaaaaaaine!_ "

But Blaine just laughs, pressing a kiss against Kurt's lips before he cups Kurt's face, gently caressing his cheek.

"Come on," he smiles, "it's not that I want you out of my car so badly but your dad seems to be waiting up for you so you better get inside before he gets worried."

"My d- Blaine!" Kurt jerks up, peering over Blaine's shoulder to see his house, dark save for the living room window where the light peeks around the curtains, a sure sign that somebody's still awake. "Blaine, you were supposed to drive us back to  _your_ house - my car is still there!"

"I know!" Blaine squeaks, suddenly looking contrite. "But you fell asleep like five minutes after we left Dalton and you looked so peaceful and I didn't want you to have to drive another hour when you were so tired so I just thought..."

"... you'd make a one hour detour to Lima and drop me off." Kurt shakes his head worriedly. "Blaine, you need your sleep too - you've only just had that cold and y-"

"I'm  _fine_ ," Blaine interrupts him patiently, "I've only used one handkerchief today and I barely even cough anymore. And besides, I'm so high on adrenaline I doubt I  _could_  sleep even if I wanted to."

He shoots Kurt a shy smile, and Kurt lets himself lean back against the side of the car, unable to keep his own smile from his face as he looks Blaine over for what must be the hundredth time that night. He can't help it - Blaine looks  _different_  tonight, has looked different ever since he crumbled up his speech.

"Have I told you yet how proud I am of you?"

"Possibly," Blaine says, pretending to think. "Probably."

"That's because I am. Incredibly... amazingly... endlessly... proud." Kurt emphasizes each word with a kiss and then smiles down at Blaine, brushing away a stray curl. "And I'm sure your parents are going to feel the same way."

Blaine groans at the reference, letting his head fall against Kurt's shoulder.

"I still can't believe you taped it. Giving that camera to Nick was a dick move, just so you know."

"I know," Kurt admits, though he can't contain a chuckle. "But I promised your dad I'd get it on film for him and I already lied to your mom five minutes after meeting her, I wasn't going to break any more promises."

"You broke your promise to me, though," Blaine pouts, but Kurt shakes his head.

"Technically, I promised you  _I_  wouldn't film it," he teases, pointing at himself. "And  _I_  didn't."

It earns him a glare, but just as Kurt wants to kiss it away, Blaine stiffens in his arms and steps back from him.

"Mister Hummel."

It's only the second time Kurt has ever heard Blaine call his dad 'Mr. Hummel', the first time having been over four years ago when they had first met, but when Kurt turns around on his heels he can see why: his dad is standing in the doorway, shoulders broad and chin high, his profile outlined by the light in the hall while his face is cast in shadow, and he's looking more unwelcoming than Kurt has ever seen him.

"Blaine," his dad acknowledges coldly before turning to Kurt. "Kurt, you better come inside before you catch a cold. And I'm sure Blaine's parents will want him home at a decent hour."

He turns around without another word or even so much as a glance at either of them, and Kurt spins around furiously.

"Did he just-"

"Kurt..."

"He just sent you home, Blaine! Like we're a couple of teenagers who missed curfew or something! He didn't even bother to say a decent 'hi'!"

"Kurt, please..."

"Does he even know what you did tonight? Does he even realize how disrespectful he's being, how hard you've worked and-"

"Kurt, calm down!" Blaine has grabbed Kurt by the shoulders, pushing him down. "Please, you're not helping anyone with this."

"But he-"

"... is just being an overprotective parent," Blaine finishes his sentence. "He's just trying to do what he thinks is best for you."

For a few seconds they just stare at each other, but then Kurt sighs, shaking his head.

"How are you so calm about this? How are you not frustrated, or- or  _angry_ , or...  _something_?"

Blaine huffs humorlessly.

"Look, Kurt... I'm hardly in a position to start arguing with your dad, am I?" He rubs his forehead, glancing at Kurt's house where the front door is still slightly ajar, waiting for Kurt. "He doesn't trust me, and I can't even blame him, so the only way I have of convincing him that I am a good guy, and that I'm going to care for you the way you deserve, is by showing him. And getting into an argument each time I might feel pushed into defense is not going to show him anything, except that he's right." He takes another breath, licking his lips. "And technically, he didn't do anything wrong. He said hi to me, however short, then asked you to come in. That's all that happened, okay?"

"It's not  _what_  he did, Blaine, it's  _the way_  he did it," Kurt tries to protest, but Blaine shakes his head.

"We had a good night, Kurt. Don't let this ruin it. And don't get into an argument with him over this - it's not worth it."

"But-"

"It's not worth it, Kurt," Blaine reiterates. "Not over this, not tonight. You're tired, he's no doubt tired, you're both just going to end up saying things you don't mean."

Kurt sighs, biting his lip. He knows in the back of his mind Blaine is right, but it  _feels_  wrong. Especially now, after the great night they've had, after everything Blaine has accomplished, it feels wrong to let his dad treat Blaine the way he just had.

"All right," he finally nods. "I'll wait till tomorrow to bring it up."

"Promise?" Blaine insists, clearly not too happy with Kurt's little addendum but prepared to take it, and Kurt nods.

"Promise."

But as they say their goodbyes, and Kurt waves one final time at Blaine's car when it disappears around the corner, the anger that's been building up inside Kurt since his dad had come out on the porch only grows. Because it's not fair, how his dad doesn't even want to give Blaine a chance, how he apparently doesn't trust Kurt enough to make his own choices, and Kurt doesn't even notice his steps getting angrier and more determined the closer he gets to the front door.

"What  _the hell_  was that about!"

He slams the door, not even caring if it wakes up the whole house, or even the whole neighborhood. They can know.

"Do you have any idea what you just did, talking to him like that, telling him-"

"-his parents will get worried if he's home to late?" Kurt's dad doesn't even bother to look up from where he's sitting in the couch, turning another page of his newspaper. "Yeah, I'm sure that'll traumatize the kid for the rest of his life. Not like, say, finding out your boyfriend is too much of a coward to give you a little warning about his incurable STD."

"STI," Kurt corrects automatically before mentally slapping himself in the face - semantics are hardly the point right now. "And will you just get over it already? Blaine and I talked about it, we worked through it, we're  _fine_. Why can't you just accept that?"

"Maybe because nobody talked to  _me_?" his dad shoots back, finally putting away the paper. "Had to find out from your brother you two were getting it on behind my back."

"We're not-  _god_ , we weren't...  _getting it on_!"

Kurt feels himself go beet red, and it's only partly because  _something_  has definitely been got on between him and Blaine. But his dad doesn't need to know that.

"Doesn't matter what you were  _doing_ , Kurt, you were lying to me and that's not how I raised you. Did he put you up to this?"

"Whát?"

" _Don't tell your dad, he doesn't need to know?_ "

"No!"

" _He'll kill me if he thinks I've laid another finger on you and you don't want that to happen, do you?_ "

"Dad!"

"Because he's right, you know. I  _will_  do something to him if he-"

" _DAD!_ " Kurt has to fight the urge to put his hands over his ears. His dad still reproaching Blaine what had happened back in the spring was one thing. Accusing Blaine of things he hadn't done, and never would do, on the other hand... "Stop it, all right! Just...  _stop_  it... That's not how it went - at all. Blaine loves me, and he would never ask that from me, or from anyone else. We  _talk_  about things now. In fact, Blaine's started talking to other people now too - just tonight, dad, you should have seen him: he had to give this presentation and he really spoke up for himself, and he disclosed and he told people and raised over a hundred grand for HIV patients! A hundred grand, dad, and that's just the money that actually came in tonight, there were lots of people who promised to give more and- what?"

Kurt's gotten all caught up in his little speech, but the enthusiasm brought on by the memory of what had happened that nigh falters when he looks at his dad, huffing and rolling his eyes and clearly not the least bit impressed with Blaine's accomplishment.

"Nothing," he says cynically. "It's just that last year Blaine couldn't be bothered to tell his big secret to _you_ , who he supposedly loves so much, but now that it's about money apparently he can tell the whole school."

The implied accusation hits Kurt like a ton of bricks.

"Dad! It wasn't about the  _money_! Listen-"

"No, Kurt!" his dad bellows. "This time  _you_  listen! And  _really_  listen. You don't see it, Kurt, you don't see it because you're in love and you're seeing what you want to see and not what is actually there. Because you keep brushing it away, but the fact is that Blaine lied to you- no wait, let me finish here. What is it they say, about how victims will always return to their abusers? Blaine  _abused_  your trust, Kurt, and how do you know he won't do it again?"

"Because he loves me, dad!" Kurt exasperates. "He'd never do anything to hurt me -  _never_. Why can't you just accept that? Why can't you just trust me and believe me when I say he's changed?"

"Because I worry about you!"

"But I don't want you to!"

Kurt's word are an echo of Blaine's during their first big fight all those months back, and it's only now that Kurt starts understanding exactly what Blaine had meant that day.

"I don't want you to worry about me, I don't  _need_  you to worry about me. I need you to let me make my own choices and I need you to support me when I do."

But his dad just shakes his head.

"You just wait, kid," he says darkly, "you just wait until you have a son or daughter of your own and they call you one fine spring morning from hospital; until some punk decides that  _your_  kid,  _your_  flesh and blood, doesn't matter enough to them to bother with protection or even simple honesty. Just wait, until you've spent three months worrying whether your kid will live or die, and then when you've survived that, you can come and tell me all you want about how I should trust the man who did that to you."

Blaine's told him his dad is just worried about him. Kurt  _knows_  his dad is worried. But to hear him say it, unable to hide his anxiety, to see him spit out the words the way he does, with a sense of desperation as if he's not sure Kurt will even want to listen to him - it makes Kurt realize he doesn't know half of just how much this has been affecting his dad. And just as Blaine had never been able to convince Kurt he didn't need taking care of, Kurt will never be able to convince his dad he doesn't need to worry.

It doesn't mean he isn't going to try.

"Dad... dad - look at me: I'm  _fine_. I was never going to  _die_ , and besides I'm fine now. And I understand that you're worried, and that you want to look out for me, but I'm ok. And so is Blaine. We're both  _ok._ Actually, we're more than just ok - we're  _great_ , and we're great because we have each other. I love him, dad, I love him so much and-"

"Don't you think I know that?"

Kurt cuts himself off, astonished, but his dad is not finished yet.

"Look, Kurt, I may be dumb, but I ain't stupid, and I don't have to see you every day to know that you're happy, happier maybe than you've ever been. I can hear it in your voice when we call, in the way you laugh and talk. And I know what, or rather  _who_ , is responsible for that. But don't you see that's what's worrying me the most? Because even if he's changed, as you say he is, even if you manage to keep safe... he's not gonna stay, Kurt. He can't, no matter what he says. That disease he has, it's killing him, it's going to take him away from you and then where will you be? Heartbroken and alone, your life built around someone who's no longer there. I know what it's like to lose someone, Kurt, I know how much it hurts. And I don't want you to have to go through that."

The words hurt, cutting deep into Kurt's heart, but that's not the worst part. The worst part is that Kurt doesn't know how to defend himself against them.

"That's not how it is," he tries feebly, not sure who he's trying to convince. "That's not how it's gonna be. People with HIV have close to normal life spans these days, and Blaine's got good doctors, and good medications, the strain he has isn't multi-resistant, ... He's got the odds in his favor and he's going to be fine."

"But what if he's not?" his dad objects. "This is exactly what I mean, Kurt - you're in love and you don't see the reality of things. What if something goes wrong anyway?"

"Then I'll be there for him."

It's hard to remain optimistic when his dad bombards him with so much pessimism, hard to believe that he and Blaine will indeed be fine when their whole safety net is being questioned the way it is. But even if he doesn't know  _how_ , even if he can't even convince  _himself_  that everything will be fine, Kurt finds that when push comes to shove there's not a shred of doubt in his mind. Because he's chosen Blaine, and no matter what happens, he will always choose Blaine.

He lifts his chin, looking at his dad defiantly.

"I'll be there for him. Whatever happens I'll be there and I'll stay with him every second of every step for as long as I can and as long as he'll let me. Just like you did for mom."

But his dad just shakes his head sadly.

"It's hardly the same thing, Kurt."

"Why? Because she didn't choose to get cancer? Because she only got it after you'd been married for ten years?" Kurt moves to the couch opposite his dad, taking his dad's hands in his own. "What if you'd know beforehand, dad? What if someone had told you, when you started dating mom, that you'd lose her. Would you have done things differently? Would you have left her?"

His dad doesn't reply, biting his lip to hold back the tears that are making his eyes glisten, and Kurt scoots a little closer.

"I know I could lose Blaine. He could run under a car, or get lung cancer, or choke on a chicken bone. He could cheat on me and leave me. Or yeah, he could get AIDS. And I know that despite how careful we're being there's a chance I'll end up HIV positive as well. I don't think any of these things is gonna happen, but really the point is that I can't  _allow_  myself thinking they might. Because if I'm gonna worry about all the things that could go wrong, what kind of life will I have? What kind of life will  _we_  have? So I  _have_  to believe we're going to make it, dad. I just have to."

It's almost liberating to be able to admit it to his dad, that he puts up a front sometimes, that deep down sometimes he's still scared. And he's scared of so many things: of losing Blaine, of seroconverting, of people reacting the way his dad does when they learn about Blaine's HIV.

Because for all the encouragement and support he's been trying to give Blaine, up until tonight Blaine's medical history had still always been something that affected  _Blaine_ , not him - with the obvious exception of their sex life, obviously, but still: they were  _Blaine's_  issues.

Only, of course, they're not.

If Kurt has learned anything that night it is that as long as he is dating Blaine, he is going to be judged for it. If Blaine was going to continue to be open about his status, Kurt would always be  _that_  guy - the one crazy enough to date an HIV positive man. Instead of escaping Ohio's small-mindedness he's just ended up exchanging one set of prejudices for another, and he's not sure he'll always be able to deal with it properly. The unexpected turn his evening had taken had caught Kurt by surprise, and although he'd been able to keep himself together -for Blaine, and for HAPE- it hadn't been easy.

Still, when his dad speaks next it almost breaks Kurt's heart.

"I wanted so much better for you."

"But I  _have_  better!"

It's as if his dad has been reading his mind, but for some reason hearing the words out loud just make Kurt feel rebellious. Because he'll be the first to admit that the life he's chosen is not the easiest one - but that doesn't mean he'd have it any other way.

"Dad, don't you see?" he pleads. "I have  _Blaine_. And isn't that what you wanted for me? Someone as open and brave as me? Because that's who Blaine is, dad. He may have needed a bit more time than I did to get there, and he may have made some mistakes on the way, but he's still a great person, and I-... I just wish you'd give him a chance."

The silence that follows must be the longest in Kurt's life, and he fights the urge to say more as he looks at his dad, looking old and small in the couch across from him. It had taken Kurt months before he'd dared to give Blaine a chance, and now he was asking his dad to do the same thing in a matter of minutes, based on nothing but Kurt's word that he wouldn't regret it.

Kurt's pretty sure that, if the roles were reversed, he wouldn't give in.

Fortunately for him, though, the roles are what they are.

"I just want you to be happy," his dad finally manages, and even if it's not a full-on approval, it's more than Kurt had dared hope for.

"I am," he says - _chokes_ -, wiping away a tear from his cheek as he flings himself into his dad's arms. "I really, really am."


	23. Chapter 22

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is a trigger warning for this chapter, but since it is also a spoiler I put it at the end, the choice to read is yours.

Kurt's there.

Just as he told his dad he would be, just like he promised Blaine: he's there. In the waiting room of the hospital, biting his nails as he tries to stay calm.

He can't have been there long -an hour, two at most- but it feels like an eternity. He's already lost count of how many cups of coffee he's downed, of how many circles he's paced around the room - four steps from where he's sitting to the coffee machine, three steps to the table in the corner with last year's worst magazines. But it's not the time he's spent there already that he's bothered about; all he wants to know is how much longer he has to stay there, how much time it will be until they'll let him see Blaine.

> _A nurse helps Blaine in the wheelchair as Kurt gathers their things - the small overnight bag he'd packed hurriedly just in case, the book he'd taken to have something to do during the long waiting hours but which he hadn't even opened yet. He hurries to the door to help keep it open while they wheel Blaine through, but when he wants to follow them one of the other nurses stops him._
> 
> _"I'm sorry, sir, we only allow family behind this point."_
> 
> _"Oh, but I_ am _\- I mean, I'm his boyfriend," Kurt says quickly, keeping his eyes on Blaine who's being wheeled further and further away from him as he tries to get past the nurse, but she pushes him back,_ _her hand closing firmly around his upper arm to turn him around._
> 
> _"Immediate family only, sir, I'm sorry," she insists. "I have to ask you to return to the waiting room."_
> 
> _Her tone is strict and determined, and Kurt's stomach drops as he realizes she means it._
> 
> _"No! No - please,_ please _, you have to let me go," he pleads, trying in vain to pull himself free from the nurse's grip, the panic rising in his chest as he sees Blaine disappear around the corner. "He needs me, I have to be there with him, please... please, let me-"_
> 
> _"I'm sorry, sir," the nurse cuts him off, not sounding like she's sorry at all. "Hospital policy, I cannot let you proceed from this point. Please return to the waiting room."_
> 
> _"But-"_
> 
> _"I do not want to have to call security, sir, and I will not ask you again. Please, return to the waiting room."_

Kurt rubs his hands over his face, trying to focus on something else, but as soon as he manages to push away the panic and desperation he'd felt when he'd been forced to give in to the nurse and return to the waiting room, other memories take their place - Blaine, laughing when Kurt had picked him, Gary and Ben up after Christmas break; on his cheeks a little more color than usual maybe, sure, but otherwise perfectly fine. He'd become quieter as they got closer to New York - an upset stomach, he'd said, and Kurt hadn't really given it much attention.

For all he knows now Blaine might have had a fever already then.

Their first night home had been fine - they'd both been exhausted and if something happened Kurt slept right through it. But the second night...

Kurt groans, fisting his hands in his hair.

> _"Blaine?"_
> 
> _For a second Kurt is not sure exactly what is waking him up but then he hears it again - a rattling, heavy cough next to him, and when he turns around he sees Blaine's body convulse painfully with the effort._
> 
> _"Blaine," he repeats a little louder, reaching out, "Blaine, sweetie, you need to wake up. Blaine. BLAINE!"_
> 
> _He didn't mean to scream, but when he touches Blaine's shoulder the skin is unnaturally hot and wet under his touch, little droplets of sweat glistening in the New York street lights._
> 
> _"Blaine, here... come on, sit up." He starts dragging Blaine in an upright position, but Blaine's dead weight in his arms - still half asleep, coughing and wheezing and not the least bit willing to cooperate. "Come on, Blaine, it's going to be easier to breathe this way, ok? I'm going to get you some water, just stay here."_
> 
> _But by the time Kurt returns from the bathroom with a glass of water, some Advil, and a thermometer, Blaine's already lying back down, and very unwilling to change that._
> 
> _"Lea'me 'lone," he mumbles, swatting at Kurt when he makes to pull him up again, "not thirsty, wan'sleep."_
> 
> _"I know, sweetie, I know, but I just need you to take these, all right? Here... just... exactly. Now drink... come on, Blaine, just drink. Just a little, for me. Please?"_
> 
> _It takes way longer than it should, but one long minute and two coughing fits later Blaine's taken the Advil and managed half a glass of water, and he's back under the blankets with the thermometer stuck safely under his arm, slowly dozing off again._
> 
> _Kurt listens to the soft wheezing of Blaine's breath a_ _s he waits for the thermometer to beep. He's fairly sure Blaine has a fever; what he's not so sure about is what he'll do if he's right. Blaine has always made it very clear he wants to take care of himself, wants to take his own decisions about his health, and Kurt knows that if he drags Blaine to the hospital for something silly he'll never hear the end of it. But he also knows that Blaine tends to pretend to be stronger than he is, and most of all he remembers the conversation with Blaine's doctor when Blaine had switched meds._

But it's not the allergy, Kurt tells himself for the hundredth time. It's not - it can't be. Blaine hadn't show any sign of the rash the doctor had said was so common, he hadn't had to throw up. Plus he'd been tested, and the doctor had said so herself: there was no reason to assume anything would go wrong with his medication.

But Blaine  _did_  have trouble breathing.

He  _did_  have a fever.

And no matter how hard Kurt tries to convince himself of the opposite, he can't shake the feeling that it's just too much of a coincidence.

> _103, Kurt finally decides. If Blaine has a fever over 103, he's going to take him to the hospital, overreactions be damned. If it's lower... they'll talk about it in the morning._
> 
> _The sudden beep of the thermometer pulls him out of his thoughts and startles Blaine, who immediately gets caught up in a coughing fit. It makes Kurt cringe, to see Blaine suffer like that, but he pulls himself together and reaches for the thermometer._
> 
> _102.6ºF_
> 
> _It's not a 103. But even as Blaine's cough dies down, he doesn't seem to be able to find a good position, tossing and turning, a pained expression on his face. And when he lets out another cough -though admittedly it's the smallest, tiniest cough Kurt's heard all night- Kurt's had it._
> 
> _"Blaine, get up. We're going to E.R."_

Unsurprisingly, Blaine had protested. Equally unsurprisingly, he had lost the argument.

" _You've been out of your element for_ days," Kurt had told him _, "you have a temperature of 103, you're coughing your lungs out, and I don't care what you say - I'm taking you to the freaking hospital. If I'm wrong you can tell me 'I told you so' all you want for the rest of my life, but either you're coming with me voluntarily or I'm calling Gary to help me drag you there and we both know how he feels about his beauty sleep. It's your choice._ "

They'd been helped surprisingly quickly once they got to the hospital - Blaine's cough and fever in combination with the mention of HIV and the allergy alert card had placed him on top of the priorities list. But now Blaine is gone and Kurt has been banned to the waiting room with only outdated magazines and his own thoughts for company, and especially the last part is slowly taking its toll.

And Kurt's phone burns in his pocket.

He's taken it out a million times already. The first time had been right after Blaine had been taken away, to call Gary - usually Kurt would be the first to acknowledge the importance of beauty sleep, but the truth is Gary is the only family Blaine has in the city and therefore Kurt's only hope of getting even a little closer to Blaine. His second call had been to Nick. But Nick's phone was either turned off or his battery was dead, because Kurt's call had gone straight to voice mail. It had only made Kurt feel even worse, even if Nick hadn't been the one he'd really wanted to call in the first place.

It's not that he doesn't know the number. He does. He even has it on speed dial. But even though he's selected it time and time again his thumb hesitates every time he wants to press 'call', hovering over the button indecisively until the screen turns black and he puts the phone away again.

The relationship with his dad had certainly improved after their talk the night of the Christmas Spectacular. The tension hadn't completely dissolved, but at least Burt had stopped hinting -less subtly than he probably thought he was- at how Kurt should find a new apartment, or a new boyfriend. But whether their fragile truce allows Kurt to call his dad in the middle of the night is another question altogether, especially since the reason is what they've been arguing about in the first place.

And Kurt's really not ready to hear "I told you so."

"Kurt!"

The sound of his name makes Kurt look up, and when he sees Gary running up to him -only one of his shoe laces tied and his t-shirt on backwards- all thoughts of his dad instantly disappear.

"Oh Gary, thank god you're here!"

For a few long minutes they simply hold each other, in that desperate, complete way only two people who share the worry over a loved one can.

"I'm so sorry," Kurt starts as they finally let go, but Gary immediately cuts him off.

"Sorry what for?"

"For waking you up in the middle of the night. For making you come here."

But Gary grabs him by the shoulders, forcing Kurt to look at him.

"Kurt, this is  _my brother_  we're talking about! You didn't seriously consider  _not_  calling me, right?"

Kurt nods hesitantly, hoping the guilt Gary's words have evoked doesn't show too clearly on his face. Because he  _hadn't_  thought of calling Gary -not until the morning, anyway- until Blaine had been taking away from him and he'd been left without a choice.

"Besides, you didn't make me come here,  _I_  decided I wanted to come, okay?"

That part at least, Kurt can confirm without feeling worse - his contribution to the conversation had been limited to a teary "I'm in the hospital" after which Gary had interrupted him to ask which hospital, and assure Kurt he'd be there within the hour.

"So what happened?" Gary continues. "Where is he now? Are they still doing tests?"

"I don't know," Kurt answers truthfully, and it's only now that the full weight of those words falls on him. "I have no idea. They're not telling me anything, they just took him and they wouldn't let me come with him because I'm not his emergency contact and I'm not family-"

"Whát?"

"-and I asked, Gary, I asked- so many times... but they wouldn't- And I don't know. I just... I don't know. I don't know _anything._ "

He can feel himself block, and he shakes his head, closing his eyes and biting his lip, not even trying to protest when Gary pulls him in once more. They don't say anything, but they don't need to - right now what they need is someone to be there, not empty words and reassurances. But when they pull apart Gary squeezes Kurt's shoulders and tells him "I'll get you to him. Promise.", and it sounds sincere enough that Kurt nods and even manages a smile.

Just a little longer, he tells himself, just a little longer and he'll be able to hold Blaine again.

.

If anything, though, Gary's presence makes the whole waiting process even more frustrating, because if Kurt thought Gary could simply ask for Blaine's room number and take him there, he's severely mistaken. It takes Gary no less than ten minutes to even figure out where Blaine is -in Radiology, having chest X-rays taken- and another thirty before he gets a doctor to stand still long enough to talk to him. But all he gets is a generic "We're still running tests, we'll let you know as soon as we know more", and it reassures neither of them.

And so almost an hour has passed since Gary's arrival when finally - _finally_ \- one of the nurses walks up to them and tells them Blaine has been assigned a room, and if Gary would please follow her.

And that's when Gary becomes Kurt's hero.

The discussion starts out fairly friendly, with Gary calmly stating he won't go anywhere without Kurt, but when the nurse stubbornly refuses to let Kurt come along with them it quickly escalates, and it's all Kurt can do to just stay in the background and watch as Gary juggles with terms and phrases as "presidential mandate" and "visitation rights" and "equality", completely overpowering the woman in front of him. But when the words "law suit" and "court" start popping up the nurse visibly blanches and quickly decides she's had enough, hurrying off with a barely audible "I'll go talk to the doctor".

Kurt has no idea whether Gary would be able to uphold his threat -whichever it was-, but when less than five minutes later another nurse comes to take both of them to see Blaine he makes a solemn promise to himself: he'll never make fun of Gary's chosen profession of lawyer again.

-o0o-

Blaine looks pale.

It's the first thing Kurt notices when he enters the room and sees Blaine - a small, fragile-looking human being in a much-too-big hospital bed, and all he wants to do is to run up to Blaine and take him in his arms, comfort him and soothe him and tell him everything's going to be all right, even if he doesn't even know if it will be. But if he believes it - if they  _both_  believe it - then maybe...

He's already halfway across the room when the soft touch of Gary's hand on his shoulder stops him.  _Easy_ , the gesture says, and Kurt bridges the rest of the gap between him and Blaine just a bit slower. The urge to kiss, to  _touch_ , is almost overwhelming, but he manages to restrain himself and instead just reaches out, stroking the back of his hand over Blaine's cheek.

"Blaine..."

"Cupcake..."

It's probably supposed to sound teasing, but Blaine's voice is so quiet and rough it comes out more like a bark, and the tired, barely-there smile that accompanies it only breaks Kurt's heart in even smaller pieces.

"Ssh..." he says soothingly. "Shhh... you shouldn't talk right now, you should rest, okay?"

His fingers accidentally brush against the nasal cannula that supplies Blaine with extra oxygen, and even though he bites his lip hard enough that he starts tasting blood he can't help his eyes filling up. He's been here before, at the bedside of someone he loves, powerless to do anything but hope and trust in the competence of the doctors, but it doesn't make any difference - seeing someone he loves suffer is something he will never get used to, something  _nobody_  ever gets used to, and Kurt slowly starts to understand what his dad had meant when he'd said Kurt didn't know what he was getting himself into.

"I'll be there" was so much easier said than done.

His thoughts are interrupted by a doctor entering the room. A short nod is all Kurt gets before the man goes straight to the foot of Blaine's bed, checking something on the chart there and copying the information on the clipboard he's holding.

"So, Mr. Anderson, you gave us quite a scare there, didn't you?"

Blaine doesn't reply, although his lips curl in a smile that would probably be mischievous if the circumstances were different.

"We'll have the results from the cultures in a couple of days," the doctor continues undisturbedly as he checks Blaine's IV, "but we put you on broad-spectrum antibiotics which should get you back on your feet soon enough."

"Antibiotics?"

Gary. Kurt had almost forgotten he was even there, focused as he was on Blaine and the doctor, but he'd had the exact same question burning on the tip of his tongue. He may not be a doctor, but even he knows that antibiotics are not the standard way of treating allergies.

"For now," the doctor confirms, as if that clarifies everything. "As I said, we'll know more in a couple of days when we have the results of the cultures. The X-rays didn't give any conclusive evidences as to whether the causing agent of the infection is bacterial or viral, but there was a clear inflammation of the alveoli, which indicates-"

"Pneumonia," Gary interrupts. Four years of dating Ben, a medical student, has given him a far larger knowledge of medical jargon than he'd ever wanted, but in instances like this it comes in handy. The doctor, however, doesn't look all too pleased about Gary stealing his thunder.

"Pneumonia, yes," he says sourly. "Of course, seeing Mr. Anderson's medical background we should be careful. It is still too early to completely exclude the change of his treatment regimen had anything to do with his current condition, but I expect the results from those tests later today. Regardless, I definitely want to keep Mr. Anderson here for a few days for observation."

"But he's going to be fine, right?"

Kurt asks it meekly. Under any other circumstances he probably would have bombarded the doctor with questions, but after barely an hour of sleep and many more hours of worrying he doesn't care how long Blaine will have to stay in hospital, he doesn't care about antibiotics or cultures or X-rays.

"He'll need to-"

That's as far as the doctor gets before he cuts himself off - the lack of sleep had maybe taken away Kurt's eagerness for asking questions, but his ability to produce bitch glares had been left intact; as the doctor had just discovered.

"He'll be fine," the man amends as dignified as he can manage, "Given that he rests sufficiently and takes his medication, he will be fine."

It might be that the doctor says even more, it might be that he turns to Gary to discuss Blaine's condition a bit further, it might be that he leaves the room - Kurt doesn't know and he doesn't care.

"You're going to be fine!" He's grabbed Blaine's hand, and for the first time since they've arrived at the hospital he doesn't try to hold back his tears. "Did you hear? You're going to be fine, they're gonna figure it out and you're gonna be just fine."

"I told you so, didn't I?" Blaine croaks with a smile, making Kurt take a step back and raise an eyebrow.

"You're in hospital with freaking  _pneumonia_ , Blaine - I'm pretty sure you don't get to say 'I told you so' here."

"But I'm going to be fine," Blaine counters weakly, although his eyes twinkle. "You just said so. And you heard the doctor: I'm going to be fine."

Kurt's mouth opens and then closes again without a sound in bafflement - if he didn't know any better he'd be sure Blaine was pulling his leg, and he's not sure whether to burst out laughing or hit Blaine over the head.

"You're never going to let me out of the house again without a scarf, are you?"

"Two scarves," Kurt immediately amends, but with Blaine looking at him the way he does -he's probably going for contrite but he just reminds Kurt of Annie plotting her next escape attempt- he can't hold back a smile any longer. "And a hat. Except for July and August."

"And June."

"Only if it's over 77 degrees."

"Deal."

_I'm still having you wear scarves all year round, though, the 77 degrees rule applies only to the hat._

Kurt thinks it, but he doesn't say it out loud _._  In fact, he doesn't say much at all anymore, one hand grasping Blaine's and the other wiping the tears off his cheeks, just looking at Blaine -pale and tired and struggling to breathe- and willing himself to believe that it is nothing, that in just a few days it will be over and the past few hours will be nothing but a bad memory. But it's a memory that will haunt him forever, he knows, one that will put him on edge every time Blaine will cough or sneeze. He still has nightmares about his dad having another heart attack, even if he has embraced his new, healthy lifestyle and is now in better shape than ever.

It doesn't matter.

None of it matters - not how good Blaine's medication is, not how brilliant his doctors are, not what the statistics say. Rational arguments don't diminish Kurt's worry, they no longer make him feel as safe as they did when he talked to his dad.

What does make him feel safe, though, is the way Blaine looks at him now - his face pale but his eyes shining. Because Blaine  _believes_ that he will make it, and therefore Kurt believes it too - he believes that  _they_  will make it.

 _For as long as I can and as long as he'll let me_ , that's what he'd told his dad. And well, maybe that had been a little overconfident, but even if after what had happened that night he's not quite sure he'll never lose his courage, it has also made him even more determined to never leave Blaine to have to go through this alone. And if that means that he'll worry every day for the rest of his life, then that's the price that he'll pay.

For as long as he can, and as long as Blaine will let him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: this chapter plays in a hospital. Seeing the nature of the story and the past chapters I'm sure you can all figure out what this means. Nothing graphic, nothing (too) serious - I trust you know your own limits. If you don't feel up to reading, I can give you a short summary instead if you want; just message me.
> 
> A quick PSA: there is indeed a 2010 presidential mandate that extends hospital visitation rights to same-sex partners. The mandate affects all hospitals who receive MediCare or MedicAid, which is the large majority of USA hospitals. It's not perfect, I've found a few cases of the past few years where same-sex partners were still asked for Health Care Proxies or other documents (and even then sometimes it wasn't enough), but it *should* now be so that the patient gets to decide who has visitation rights and who doesn't - something which is, btw, also beneficial for straight couples who aren't married or single people/widow(er)s who don't have a partner or children.
> 
> The next last few chapters should be up soon'ish (within a couple of weeks), I hope, it'll depend on rl and on how the writing goes, meanwhile I hope you enjoyed these chapters so far and I'll see you soon!


	24. Chapter 23

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ****So... yeah... I'm not even going to start to try to apologize or explain why it took so long for me to update. Just know that I am really sorry for taking so long, and for raising expectations when really both this and the next two chapters (one chapter plus one epilogue) are more about tying up loose ends than they are about the story you came here for... Thank you all so much for your patience, and for remaining ever respectful when stalking my ask on Tumblr (letmegiveyoumynumbah) asking about the update. I'm really sorry for the false promises I made, and I know now not to start publishing unless the whole story is actually finished...** **
> 
> ****I'm not sure when I'll post the remaining two chapters - in my head I want to finish before the end of the month but I have a feeling that won't be realistic. Either way, it won't take as long as this one has. Also, if** ** **there's any other loose end you want to see resolved or want to know more about before it all ends, let me know in the comments - I have a few things I'll address (Burt, Mercedes) but I'm sure to be looking over things.**
> 
> **Anyway, without further ado: the beginning of the final part of our journey...**

Judging by the light pouring in through the window the sun has just come up when Kurt wakes up, and he groans as he slowly becomes aware of the kink in his neck and the soreness in most every muscle of his body. There's a faint rustle beside him, the soft sound of fabric sliding over fabric, and Kurt allows himself a few more seconds of imaginary peace before he gives in and reluctantly opens his eyes, only to see Gary standing bent over the chair next to him, an apologetic look on his face.

"Sorry," he whispers, "I didn't mean to wake you up."

" 'S ok," Kurt mumbles back sleepily, rubbing his eyes. "How's Blaine? Any change?"

He scrambles up, craning his neck to look at Blaine, high on the hospital bed, his dark curls only just peeking out from under the sheet.

"Still sleeping," Gary says softly. "Which is the best thing he could do right now, really. I was just gonna get some coffee - want some?"

The mere thought of the generic, bitter concoction that passes for coffee in most hospitals makes Kurt's stomach turn, but after the short, eventful night he's had there's no way he'll survive the day that awaits him without a little help.

"As long as you add sugar," he says. "Lots and lots of sugar."

"Will do." Gary shoots him a knowing smile and straightens himself, a few coins jingling in his hand. "I'll be back in five."

Kurt nods gratefully, letting himself fall back into his seat as he lets his gaze wander back to Blaine. When his dad was in hospital, he'd been hooked up on a heart-rate monitor. Blaine's condition, however, is apparently not bad enough to warrant such technology, and while Kurt doesn't miss the annoying, rhythmic beeping of the machine, there had been something reassuring about the continuity of the lines on the screen, a sense of security that had without doubt been artificial but hadn't felt any less real for it. Now, however, there are no beeps, no graphs - only the steady rise and fall of Blaine's chest under the blanket and the soft wheezing of his breath, and so Kurt holds on to that instead.

There's a soft knock on the door that makes him look up, and he rolls his eyes. For all the money that went into his education it's almost incomprehensible Gary never learned to open a door with two cups of coffee in his hands, he thinks, and when the second knock comes he sighs, wincing as he forces himself to get up, stretching his arms and legs to get the blood flowing again. He can hear muffled voices talking on the other side of the door, and even as he makes his way to the door he can see the lever being pushed down.

"Kurt?"

A dark head pokes around the door, and Kurt does a double take.

"Nick? Oh god - Nick!" He's started shouting before he realizes Blaine is still asleep, and as soon as he does he immediately lowers his voice again. "What are you doing here?"

"Seriously? You leave me a panicked voice mail and five texts about how Blaine is in hospital and you expect me _not_ to come?"

Nick's grin stretches from ear to ear, much too cheerful for the time of morning, but Kurt doesn't resist when Nick pulls him into a hug, closing his eyes as he lets out a breath he hadn't even known he was holding, his body automatically relaxing at the familiar feel and scent of Nick surrounding him.

"You're crazy!" he stage-whispers when they finally let go of each other. "You should be in bed or something, seriously. I just needed to vent a little, I didn't mean for you to come here at... well... whatever time it is now. How did you get here anyways?"

"I got a ride," Nick says, pointing over his shoulder, and it's only now that Kurt sees Nick isn't alone. The tall, blond man entering the room behind him gives him a shy, insecure wave, and it's a testimony to his sleep-muddled brain that the first thought crossing Kurt's mind is not why Brad was even in a position to give Nick a ride but rather why on Earth Brad has a car when he lives in New York City.

"So, how's he doing?" Nick distracts him with a nod at Blaine, and Kurt decides to leave the riddle of Brad's presence for another time, turning over his shoulder to look at the sleeping figure on the hospital bed.

"Ok, I guess," he shrugs, not sure how to answer Nick's question. "You know, given the circumstances. They've started him on antibiotics and they managed to get his fever down, so that's that, at least. They said it's pneumonia, but I think they're still running tests..."

"Well fuck... ," Nick whistles. "You certainly know how to scare someone, don't you, Blainers?"

"To be fair I probably overreacted a little," Kurt admits as he walks back to his chair, "but don't ever tell him I said that." He shoots a warning look at Nick, who immediately pretend-zips his lips, and despite himself Kurt smiles, although his face falls again when he glances back at Blaine. "I was just... I mean, with his switch in medication and all, I thought he might be having this allergic reaction or something. He was burning up and just coughing all the time and... I didn't want to take the risk."

"Of course you wouldn't!" Nick looks at him as if he's gone insane. "Kurt, anyone in your position would have done the same - I'm sure he won't blame you for it."

Kurt lets out a huff, but he doesn't reply, sinking back into his chair instead. His attention immediately and automatically focusses back on Blaine - still visibly paler than usual even if he's been fever-free for a few hours now. But he's ok now, Kurt reminds himself, and he's in hospital, which means that even if something were to happen help is only one shout away. Still he knows they'll have to talk more about this later, that he'll -gently- hit Blaine over the head for worrying him and that Blaine will -equally gently- hit _him_ over the head for dragging him to the hospital in the middle of the night instead of just waiting until morning. But all of that can wait. Blaine's in good hands now, and the best thing -the _only_ thing- Kurt can do for him now is just be there for him.

When he's finally convinced himself that Blaine won't suddenly stop breathing any time soon, Kurt lets his eyes drift away, settling on Nick instead. He's standing at the foot of Blaine's bed, a wistful smile playing around his lips, but although his eyes are on Blaine he doesn't seem to see him, instead focussing on whatever it is that Brad's whispering in his ear. They form an odd couple the way they're standing there - not as close as lovers might, maybe, but definitely closer than strangers would, and the contrast between the short, sinewy, dark-haired man in front and the tall, muscular, blond behind him is so stark that it would have had Kurt burst out in giggles if it wasn't for the fact that this was his best friend, casually chatting with the man who had ruined his boyfriend's life. And even if said boyfriend had forgiven said life ruiner and said best friend is currently looking more at peace -and, dare Kurt think it, _happier_ \- than ever before, Kurt isn't quite sure what to think of the scene in front of him. Because Nick would've told him, that is - if there was something to tell. Wouldn't he?

But before he can lose himself further in analyzing a relationship he doesn't even know the exact nature of, the door opens again, and Gary shuffles in, pushing the door with his elbows while clutching two paper cups filled to the brim with coffee.

"Hey man, better run out to get some more," Kurt jokes softly as Gary closes the door behind him. "We've got visitors."

He nods towards where Nick and Brad are standing, but before he realizes what's happening there's a puddle of coffee on the floor and a tall blond man pushed up against the wall.

"What the _fuck_ are you doing here?"

.

Nick immediately charges forward in Brad's defense, but he hardly even makes it two steps before Gary roughly pushes him back with his free arm.

"Stay out of this, Nick," he snaps before he returns his attention back to the man in front of him, his face distorted in contempt. "You have no clue what this douchebag did to Blaine. Answer the question, dickhead - _what. are you. doing here_?"

"The same as you, I'd wager," Brad says, as smugly as he can manage seeing as Gary has his arm firmly pressed against his throat, and even if Kurt's obviously not the biggest fan of Brad he has to admire how calm the man is even as he finds himself utterly defenseless. "Visiting Blaine."

"I told you to stay away from him," Gary grumbles. "I _told_ you I didn't want you anywhere near him ever again, or has the syphilis-induced dementia finally started to mess with your long-term memory?"

"Ooh, _someone_ has done their research," Brad smirks, "I have to admit - I'm impressed. And I appreciate your concern about my health, but I'm syphilis-free, and my memory is quite intact, thank you very much."

"Still doesn't explain why you can't seem to stay away from my little brother."

Gary scowls, but Brad just laughs.

"With all due respect, but don't you think it's time to drop the act? Blaine's old enough to decide for himself who he does and doesn't want to stay away from him."

"With all due respect," Gary counters angrily, "I don't give a fuck."

"Fortunately for Blaine, _I_ _do_."

But the snide remark only angers Gary even more, and he pushes Brad just a little further up against the wall.

"As far as I'm concerned you've already given one fuck too many," he growls. "So get out or..."

"Or what?" Brad drawls, unimpressed, the challenge in his voice obvious. "What are you gonna do? Hit me? Because I don't think you really want to hurt me, do you? I mean, just imagine if I get a nosebleed..."

Gary's squinting, his breathing fast and erratic, and Kurt's not sure which is the scary part: seeing Gary like this, or never having seen Gary like this before. Either way, and despite Brad's apparent indifference, it's clear the man is in pain, and Kurt cautiously takes a few steps towards them.

"Gary... Gary, you're hurting him - please, just let him go..."

"I'll let him go as soon as he promises to run out of this hospital and never look back," Gary says unforgivingly, not making any attempt to release the pressure even a little bit, until-

"Gary?"

The voice is weak, and a little rough, but nevertheless everybody falls instantly silent when they hear it, and Kurt immediately hurries to Blaine's side.

"Blaine..."

"No," Blaine immediately protests even if he's clearly only half awake, using the arm Kurt's trying to push him down with to pull himself up. "No, no, don't 'Blaine' me now. What's going on? Gary, who is that?"

For a few long seconds no one in the room dares say anything, or even move, but then Gary huffs, and with a final shove and a long, dirty look, he steps away from Brad and out of Blaine's line of sight.

" _Brad_?"

"It's okay, Blaine, it's-"

"No, it's not!" Blaine's outburst immediately sends him into a coughing fit, but when Kurt tries to help him he pushes him away. "Don't! Just let me... I... Gary, what were you doing?"

"This piece of shit thought it was acceptable for him to visit you on your sick bed and I-"

"Don't call him that!"

" _What_?"

The shock is visible on Gary's face, his eyes wide as he stares at Blaine, but Blaine doesn't waver.

"You heard me," he tells his brother determinedly, his voice rough but steady even if he's trembling from the effort of sitting upright. "That's one of my best friends you're talking about, and I won't have you insult him."

"Blaine, it's ok," Brad cuts in softly, almost soothingly. He gently pries Nick's examining hands away from the red blotches on his neck, and Kurt doesn't miss how he gives them a reassuring squeeze before he walks up to Blaine. "I can come back another time."

"But he-"

"-doesn't understand," Brad interrupts Blaine's sputtering, the condescending glance he throws at a still-grunting Gary apparently enough to keep him from commenting. "Do _you_ want me to visit again later?"

"Of course I do!"

"Then I'll visit again later, ok?" Brad takes Blaine's hand and leans forward to press a kiss against his forehead. "Besides, I have little desire to be in the same room with someone who doesn't hesitate to spread false accusations about me."

"False accusations my ass." Gary spits out the words. "You ruined my brother's _life_ , you shithead. You ruined his life and then you left him to fend for himself - if that doesn't make you a douchebag I don't know _what_ does."

"Ok, so first of all the only reason I left him is because you told me you'd cut off my dick if I ever came near him again," Brad says angrily, squinting at Gary. "And secondly, I didn't ruin his life."

Gary chokes out a laugh, but before he can start an argument Brad points at Blaine.

"Look at him, Gary. _Look_ at him! Top of his class. Steady relationship. Highly respected volunteer at the community center. Raised, what was it, a hundred grand for HAPE at Christmas? If that's a life 'ruined', I'd really like you to explain to me what a 'successful' life looks like."

For a moment the two men just stare at each other - Brad defiantly, Gary slightly less so as he tries to come up with a counter argument but fails, and finally Brad huffs and turns back to Blaine.

"Take care of yourself, okay?" he says, and when Blaine nods he looks back up, eyes searching around the room until they find Kurt's. "And you take care of him too, Kurt. And thanks for bringing him in, I know he'll tell you you overreacted, but you did the right thing, ok? Hear that, Blainey? He did the right thing."

Blaine, at least, has the decency to look guilty when he glances at Kurt, and he nods again.

"I know."

"Good."

And then they're gone - Kurt has only just the time to mouth an insistent 'call me!' at Nick before he follows after Brad and closes the door behind them, and then it's just the three of them: Blaine, who's let himself fall back on his bed, his eyes closed as he tries to recover from the unexpectedly rough waking up he's had, Gary, who still looks like he's ready to punch a wall, and Kurt himself, who just feels confused. And tired. But mainly confused.

"So... were you ever gonna tell me you were seeing him again?" Gary finally asks, and Blaine lets out an audible sigh.

"After the way you've just treated him, does it surprise you my answer to that question is 'no'?" he asks, eyes still closed.

"He ruined your life, Blaine," Gary repeats his earlier accusation, though he sounds a little more exasperated than before, "so forgive me if I'm trying to look out for you and keep him from ruining it any further. He's the reason you're lying in that hospital bed now, so how can you look at him and know what he's done to you and still call him your friend?"

The way he's looking at Blaine is almost pleading, begging him to explain what he clearly doesn't understand, and Kurt notices he's holding his own breath. Because this is the one thing he's never understood either yet never dared ask, afraid that maybe, even after all these years, the reason why Blaine wanted to stay close to Brad was because deep down he still felt something for the man. And if that were the case, Kurt would rather he didn't know.

But Blaine's answer is not what he expected it to be.

"Have you ever woken up to rushing the person you love more than anything to the hospital because of a mistake _you_ made?" he asks Gary softly before he turns his head towards him, the urgency in his eyes the same as is in his voice. "Have you ever tried to make up for a mistake you could never make up for? Have you ever spent every minute you spend with a person feeling guilty about what you did to them? Do you know what it's like to want something you know could end in disaster all over again, and still wanting it so badly that you just can't help but take the risk even it leaves you scared shitless? Do you know how that feels, Gary?"

The words cut through Kurt's heart like a hot knife through butter, even if none of them are directed at him, but Blaine's not done yet.

"I still dream sometimes, Gar. In my dream I wake up and Kurt's not in bed with me. Sometimes he's just gone - his clothes, his designs, his cat, ... it's all gone. Those are the good ones. Because sometimes... sometimes he's still there, sitting at the kitchen table with a piece of paper in his hand. Positive, the paper says, and he's crying but I'm frozen and I can't reach him, I can't do anything as I watch him slowly fade away, disappear right in front of my eyes until there's nothing left but that damn paper and I wake up sweating all over, heart pounding like a mad man, and I don't know whether the man lying next to me is real or just a figment of my imagination."

"Look, if you want to go back to therapy-," Gary starts, but Blaine doesn't even let him finish.

"I don't _want_ therapy, I want _Brad_!"

"But Brad gave you HIV!"

"And I _let_ him!"

The words crack through the air like a whip, and Kurt knows better than to come between both brothers now, even if they're looking at each other like they're ready to tear the other's throat out.

"When are you going to acknowledge _I_ am to blame too?" Blaine finally breaks the tension. "When are you going to realize that _you're_ not? Just because he was your friend, and you introduced us, doesn't make it your fault, Gar. And yeah, maybe you shouldn't have given in when I begged you to visit you in New York. Maybe you should've kept a better eye on me. Maybe then I would be negative, and I'd be joking with you over a beer how I still haven't forgiven you for not letting me visit New York all those years ago, and Kurt wouldn't have had to rush me to the hospital last night because he wouldn't even _know_ me. Maybe I would be happier in that life, studying music or acting or something like that. Maybe I wouldn't be. The point is... that's not my life. _This_ , this is my life. Kurt, and HAPE, and psychology, and yes, pills and viruses and guilt. And it's not perfect, but it's _mine_. And it makes me happy. My life makes me happy. And if fear is the price I pay for making sure I don't repeat my mistakes... then so be it."

"But Brad-"

"-deserves my forgiveness," Blaine finishes his brother's sentence. "I know I can always talk to you, and Kurt, and the support group. But Brad... he's the only person who really understands what I feel when I look at Kurt, the only person who really _gets_ what I put him through. What I put _me_ through. And so I _need_ him. And I need to forgive him, because how else can I expect Kurt to forgive _me_?"

And for all Gary's law school training he doesn't make it any further than an uneasy shuffle and, after a few minutes, a feeble 'Blaine', which Blaine himself simply waves off.

"Go," he says tiredly. "Just... go. Please."

He closes his eyes again, and when Gary glances at Kurt, clearly looking for some support, Kurt shrugs. Blaine's rant may not have been directed at him, but that doesn't mean he didn't hear it. And for all Kurt is stubborn, he's not too proud to admit to making mistakes sometimes. And maybe he made a mistake in judging Blaine and Brad's friendship.

Gary seems to understand, though, because he nods, and with one last glance at Blaine he reluctantly turns to leave the room.

"Blaine?" Kurt asks cautiously when Gary has finally closed the door behind him. He's not sure whether the 'go' was meant for him too, but he'd really rather not leave Blaine alone right now. Or, well... ever. "Are you sleeping?"

"Just pretending," Blaine says softly, and true to his words he doesn't move, doesn't even open his eyes.

"Do you want me to leave?"

"Not unless you're planning to go off on a tangent about how stupid I am to want Brad as a friend."

"I don't think it's stupid."

This time Blaine _does_ move, opening his eyes and turning his head towards Kurt, the look on his face one of apprehensive surprise.

"You don't?"

"I kind of thought you were," Kurt admits as he sits down on the bed next to Blaine. "Before, I mean. I guess I saw him more as the guy who ruined your life and less as the guy who made the same mistake you did. It's just... you always seemed so strong about everything, so confident... and I didn't understand what he could mean to you that I couldn't... I think now maybe I do." Not quite, not everything. But more. "And maybe... maybe I was just a little bit jealous."

"Jealous?" Blaine repeats, genuinely surprised this time. "Why would you be jealous?"

Kurt shrugs uneasily.

"He was your first... you know. And he's... well, have you _seen_ him?"

Blaine chuckles, but when he murmurs a quiet and ambiguous 'Yes, I have' Kurt forgets for a moment that Blaine's in the hospital for a reason and not-so-softly hits his arm.

"Aw!" Blaine cries out, grabbing at his arm and glaring at Kurt. "What was that for? I'm just being honest with you! Besides, if you want to be jealous I think you should be jealous of Nick, not me."

"Seriously when did that happen?" Kurt has instantly forgotten about Blaine's silly joke, because if there's one thing that can distract him from almost anything it's gossip. And right now Nick and Brad are not only a particularly juicy bit of gossip, they're also a bit of gossip Kurt feels he should have some authority on, and yet he doesn't. "How did I not know about that?"

"Hey, don't look at me!" Blaine protests when Kurt stares him down, and he raises his hands in surrender. "You know I'm always the last to notice things like that!"

"Brad didn't tell you anything?" Kurt asks urgently, and Blaine shakes his head.

"I haven't seen much of him lately," he says. "He stopped coming to group somewhere early December, I figured he was busy..."

"... busy with _Nick_ , you mean," Kurt cuts in, suddenly realizing that Nick, too, had been harder to reach the last month. "I'm going to kill him. I'm going to kill them _both_."

"Maybe that's why he didn't tell you," Blaine suggests, and despite the icy glare Kurt sends him he bravely soldiers on. "It's not like you've been shouting your love for Brad off the rooftops."

That, at least, Kurt can't deny.

"I had my reasons," he says stubbornly, but before he's even finished his sentence Blaine's started groaning.

"I swear if I hear you say one more time that he ruined my life..."

"But he did!" Kurt exclaims, but he backpedals a bit when Blaine glares at him. "At least he drastically changed it."

" _Meeting him_ drastically changed it," Blaine corrects him. And then, after a short pause: "It got me to meet you."

"Blaine..." Kurt starts, but when Blaine takes his hand into his own he falls silent.

"I'm always wondering 'what if'," he says softly. "What if I had thought about protection that night with Brad. What if I hadn't been so drunk that night with you. What if I had had the courage to tell you about me before. What if, despite how careful we're being, something still happens to you. And it's always like - what if my life were better? What if my life gets worse? But what if my life could just _be_ , Kurt? What if we could let go of all the 'what if's and just enjoy what we have, rather than worrying and speculating about what could have been or what might be?" He pauses, staring at their hands where his thumbs are rubbing over the back of Kurt's hand. "I don't want my life to be a 'what if', Kurt. I want my life to be With you."

Kurt is nineteen years old. Eight months ago he found out that his boyfriend, the boy of his dreams, had HIV and he was at risk of being HIV positive himself; it took three months before he was finally declared virus-free. Another three months later, after countless discussions and even more sleepless nights, he finally decided to give his dream boy a second chance and, as a result, ended up rushing him to the hospital no less than six hours ago because he'd mistaken the symptoms of pneumonia for those of an allergic reaction. In short: Kurt has had a pretty stressful year, and it's showing no signs of calming down any time soon.

Kurt is nineteen years old, and he's never been so sure of anything in his life.

"Yes," he says shakily. "Oh dear god, _yes_!"


	25. Chapter 24

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So here we are... I have a gazillion reasons why it took me so long once again, but now that it's here I think really I just wasn't ready to say goodbye to these characters. Still am not. But all things must come to an end, and that goes for stories as much as for anything else, so here it is: the last chapter of The Danger Inside Of Me. You should all go and thank [Lisa](http://just-another-pipedreamer.tumblr.com/) for her wonderful and patient reviewing, no matter how insecure I got - she's honestly a saint and her suggestions made this ending a lot less bitter and a whole lot sweeter.  
> I hope you guys enjoy it as you've enjoyed the rest of the story, and to every one who's commented, favorited, freaked out in my ask box, or silently followed on the other side of this wonderful invention that is the internet: thank you so much. Thank you for being there, for making my days brighter with your support, thank you for making this fandom the wonderful place it can be. Hugs and kisses to you all - Lis xx

He doesn't even know how long he's been toying with the phone in his hand; long enough for his hands to get sweaty, that's for sure. He wipes his hands dry before he unlocks the screen for what feels like the thousandth time, but, just like the previous 999 times he's done so, the screen turns dark before he has the courage to dial the number he's supposed to call.

No - the number he _wants_ to call, Blaine reminds himself. After all, _he'd_ been the one to ask Gary not to call their parents, _he'd_ been the one to decide that this time he'd tell them himself about what happened.

Still, it feels weird. Because the long minutes spent staring at the screen in his hand have made him realize he can't remember the last time he's spoken to either of his parents on the phone. He definitely can't remember the last time _he_ wasthe one to call _them._ He must have done so, though, at one point; probably some time back in high school, to tell them he'd be home late or something equally inane.

This time he'd be calling with quite different news...

He sighs, once again wiping his hands to unlock his phone, more determinedly this time.

He can do this. He has to do this. He _wants_ to do this.

The phone rings once, twice, and for a fleeting moment Blaine hopes his parents won't pick up and he'll end up getting voice mail. But he couldn't possibly leave a message like this on voice mail, could he? He'd have to call back and-

"Blaine?" a female voice says loudly in his ear, and he pretends he doesn't notice the surge of relief running through his chest.

"Hi," he starts, voice croaking from all the coughing he's been doing, and he curses himself for not practicing his voice before calling - god knows he had the time. He clears his throat, though the croak is still very clearly present when he repeats, "Hi, mom. How are you?"

" _I'm_ _fine,"_ his mom replies immediately, automatically, her voice laden with barely hidden surprise. There's another sentiment there as well, though, one that's scarily reminiscent of worry. She has to hear the croak, has to know he would never call just to catch up. Still, she plays along - for now. " _I'm_ _good. I just got home from the store, your aunt Madeline and uncle Robert are coming for dinner tonight and-"_

"Oh god, I'm sorry!" _Stupid_ , Blaine chastises himself, _stupid, stupid,_ stupid! "I'm so sorry, I didn't know you were busy, I should've asked, I'm sorry, I'll call back la-"

" _Blaine_ _Devon Anderson, don't you_ dare _hang up that phone!"_

And even though he'd already lowered his phone Blaine can hear his mother's scream as clearly as he would have if she'd been standing right next to him - Mrs. Anderson may be a small woman but she certainly has a big voice and she isn't afraid to use it.

" _It's_ _only so often that my youngest son does me the honor of a personal phone call,"_ she continues after a short pause, and Blaine can hear the apology in the way she's trying to regain her calm, tries to make it sound less like a jab and more like the joke it is. " _And_ _besides, I don't expect them before eight anyway. So. Plenty of time to talk."_

It's a lie, and they both know it. Blaine hasn't attended any of his mother's dinner parties in years, but he remembers quite vividly what happens when she decides to invite people over, how she will spend hours in the kitchen to prepare the perfect meal for her guests. And so he can just imagine her right now, in her usually pristine kitchen, surrounded by grocery bags upon grocery bags of the most exquisite ingredients, which she will turn into even more exquisite dishes in a matter of hours according to a pre-determined and very tight schedule that he knows for a fact does not leave any room for chit-chat.

" _Blaine_ , _honey, are you still there?"_

"I'm here," Blaine croaks - again.

"Are _you sure you're all right? You sound... tired."_

"It's nothing."

It's a reflex, really, his former go-to reply whenever his parents asked him questions he wasn't prepared to answer, and the words have left his mouth before he could even think about them.

He takes a deep breath.

"I mean - it's nothing _serious._ Not really. And I'll be fine, I'm feeling much better already and-"

" _Blaine..."_

"I'm in the hospital." Blaine can hear his mom suck in a breath, and he quickly continues before she has the chance to freak out. "I'd been feeling a bit under the weather since I left Ohio - I figured it was just that damn cold I couldn't get rid of. But then I got a fever and... well... Kurt thought it was best we go see a doctor."

He doesn't mention how Kurt practically dragged him to the hospital, or how they didn't so much ʻgo see a doctorʼ as they ʻrushed to the hospital in the middle of the nightʼ - it's one thing to tell his parents he's in hospital, but it is a whole different thing to give them extra reasons to worry about him.

" _And?"_ his mother prompts when he doesn't immediately continue, and he takes another breath.

"... and I've got pneumonia."

" _Oh_ _Blaine, honey..."_

"So really, I'm fine," Blaine insists once again, hoping that maybe if he doesn't let her talk he doesn't have to hear the worry in her voice. "It's just a cold that got out of hand, it's nothing, it's just-"

" _-pneumonia_ , _Blaine, it's_ pneumonia. _That's not just a cold that got out of hand, that's_ pneumonia! _How could you let that happen? You_ know _you need to take care of your health, I've told you a thousand times - better safe than sorry, even if it's just a little cough: go to the doctor. You never know. And wear your scarf! Grams gave you such a lovely scarf last Christmas, why wouldn't you just wear it? You used to love them so much back in high school, and then suddenly you're in New York and it's not ʻcoolʼ anymore and-"_

Blaine closes his eyes, leans back and lets his mother ramble. So this was why he used to let his brother take care of this stuff... She means well, he tries to tell himself, but it's hard when her phrasing isn't always as considerate as it could be (" _I_ _can't believe Kurt didn't send you to the doctor sooner, really he should have known better.")_ He'll have to talk to her about that one day. Not now, though, now he's too tired and he doesn't have the energy, so he just lets her ramble until-

" _Do you want us to come over?"_

"What?"

" _We'll come over,"_ his mom blatantly ignores him. " _I'm_ _sure there's still flights going out to New York tonight, I mean, there has to be, right?"_

"Mom, that's really not necessary."

" _But_ _oh god, your aunt Madeleine... and what am I going to do with those coquilles? I don't even know if I could freeze them... no matter, I'll figure it out, Madeleine can wait."_

"Mom..."

" _I should call Bea, though, let her know I won't be at work till the end of the week. Your father... well, he'll just have to arrange something too. What hospital are you at? Is there a hotel nearby?"_

"Mom, I don't _want_ you here!"

But the dramatic effect of Blaine's outburst immediately goes to waste when it promptly sends him into a coughing fit.

" _Blaine?_ _Blaine, what's happening? Are you all right? Blaine!"_

He blindly reaches for the bottle of water on his night stand, taking a couple of sips in an attempt to stop the coughing, grimacing when it slides down his burning throat. Now is not the time to be squeamish, though, he tells himself - the last thing he needs is to give his mom more reasons to jump on the next plane because she actually thinks he's seriously ill. Hearing the worry in her voice is bad enough already, he doesn't want to have to see it too. He _definitely_ doesn't want herto see himlike this, either.

He closes his eyes and sighs, feeling suddenly exhausted.

"I'm fine, mom." Another cough. "Just... something in my throat, that's all. I'm fine. Nothing to worry about. Definitely nothing to fly all the way to New York for."

" _Honey_... _are you sure you're telling me everything?"_

His eyes fly open.

"Why?"

" _Well..."_ His mom hesitates, as if she's not sure she should continue, but when he repeats his question, a little more urgently, she finally says, " _Just_... _that cough sounded pretty bad. And you said you didn't want us to come over so..."_

"... so you think I'm lying to you?" Blaine asks, incredulous. "Why the hell would I be lying about this, mom?"

"It _wouldn't be the first time that-"_

"Is that what you think I am?" he explodes. "A liar? Well, next time I'll just let _Gary_ do the honors again. Would you believe _him?_ Do you know- do you have _any_ idea how hard it was for me to call you? I'm trying here, mom, I'm trying and all you can do is accuse me of lying!"

He's panting, gasping for breath, but above all he's _angry._ Angry because once again his mom is jumping to conclusions, angry because he never did anything to deserve being called a liar, but above all he's angry because now he's too damn exhausted from screaming he can't do anything but lie there and catch his breath as his mom makes good use of his silence.

" _Honey_ , _I caught you being sick when you were seventeen. You were puking your guts out and you told me it was just something you ate. I had to hear from Gary that it was because of your new meds because apparently you'd quit taking your old ones without telling anyone. Just as it was Gary who told me that you were... that you are... positive. And, ʻOh by the way, mom, he's gay.ʼ You're a good boy, Blaine, and I know you're not a liar. But you do have a record of not always telling us everything, so I'm sorry if I'm just waiting for the other shoe to drop here._ "

The words sting, but it's the truth underneath them that hurts the most, the reminder that his parents weren't the only ones to have broken the trust between them. The fact that Blaine hasn't been as honest as he could have been about the way he ended up in the hospital certainly doesn't help to quell the sudden sense of guilt that's come over him.

" _I'm_ _your mother, and I won't apologize for caring about you. So I'm flying over, whether you want me to or not, okay?"_

"Mom, really, there's no need," Blaine tries again. His head is throbbing and his throat feels like it's on fire and he's too tired for this... whatever this is. "All you could do is sit beside my bed and read me stories, and Kurt's already claimed that job. And I appreciate you want to come here, I really do, but you really don't have to."

" _I'm_ _not coming because I have to."_ There's urgency in her voice, and a hint of desperation, like there's a point she's trying to make and Blaine is missing it. " _Blaine,_ _I asked you if there was anything more I needed to know. You said no, and I believe you. So this is not about us checking on you, it really isn't, this is about-..."_ She breaks off the sentence with a sigh, and Blaine can practically hear her steel herself for what she's about to say. " _Look_ , _I just want to be there for you, okay, honey? Please. Please just... let me be there for you."_

_Because I wasn't there before._

She doesn't say the words but they still hang heavily between them, and Blaine doesn't know what to say. Even when he was still a kid his mom had never been the type to fuss over him when he was ill - not because she didn't care; it simply wasn't the kind of person she was. And so the idea of her doing so now just brings back awkward memories of Thanksgiving and trying too damn hard.

"Look, mom..."

"You _really don't want me there."_

It's disappointment - its honest-to-god disappointment and it makes Blaine feel hot and cold both at the same time. Maybe his fever is coming back...

"Mom, there's nothing you could do," he pleads, even though he knows that's hardly the point of the conversation. "It'd be a waste of time and money, not to mention carbon dioxide. And I know aunt Madeleine would be terribly disappointed if you cancelled dinner."

There's a short huff on the other side of the line that Blaine's not sure how to interpret. He hopes it was a laugh, he hopes his mom understands his refusal is not a rejection. Because it's not that he doesn't want her here. He just doesn't want her here _now._

He groans. This whole fixing-his-relationship-with-his-parents thing was a lot harder than the movies had led him to believe.

"Look, why don't you come over for Easter?" _Oh god, what am I saying?_ "You'll be able to get a better deal for your flight and I'll have some time off school then anyway. I could show you around, we could maybe see a show on Broadway or something. Kurt's like a rush ticket genius." _They don't even LIKE Broadway, where am I even going with this?_ "You could even stay at our place - Kurt's moved into my room so we have a spare one anyway." _And now I've basically just told you I have sex every night. Nailed it, Anderson._

" _That..._ _sounds wonderful,"_ his mom says.

 _I'm screwed,_ he thinks.

There is a soft knock on his door, and Blaine looks up to see Kurt standing in the doorway, looking a little unsure as to whether he's allowed to come in seeing that Blaine is obviously busy, but Blaine feels a surge of relief at having an excuse to end the weird silence between him and his mom.

"Look, mom," he says, even as he beckons Kurt to enter, "I don't want to seem rude but Kurt just got here so..."

" _Oh,_ _yeah,"_ his mom says, and there's that disappointment again. " _Yeah,_ _of course. Well, I'll leave you to it, then. Still got lots of work to do for dinner anyway! You- uh, you'll tell him I said hi, right?"_

"I will," he promises. "And I'll... I'll talk to you later, okay?"

" _Anytime_ , _honey. Anytime, honestly. And Blaine?"_

"Yeah?"

" _Thank_ _you for calling."_

She hangs up before he can think of something to reply with, and it's a soft pair of lips against his cheek that brings him out of his stupor and instantly makes him forget about his headache. He smiles.

"Hey, pretty..."

"Who was that?" Kurt asks as he puts down the duffel bag containing more of Blaine's things and sits down on the bed next to him, wearing that familiar look of worry he hasn't been able to lose since they'd arrived at the hospital the previous night. "You look exhausted."

"My mom," Blaine replies, and there's a flash of surprise on Kurt's face.

"Oh. Why'd she call?"

"Actually..." Blaine hesitates. "I called _her."_

This time, the surprise doesn't merely flash by but instead completely replaces the worry, and Blaine smiles apologetically.

"I wanted to tell her about... _this,"_ he explains, gesturing around him clumsily. "I figured... I figured she should know."

"Of course, I didn't-... I mean-... how'd it go?"

"I invited them over for Easter."

Kurt bursts out laughing. He honest-to-god simply bursts out laughing, and Blaine's left to watch him in astonishment as he hiccups his way through his laughter.

"It's not funny!"

"You call your mom to tell her you're in hospital and instead you invite her over for Easter?" Kurt asks, still chuckling. "No, you're right, that's not funny - that's _hilarious._ Seriously, how does that even happen?"

Blaine makes an unhappy face, and then shrugs.

"First she accused me of being a liar and then she made me feel all guilty about it and _then_ she insisted on flying out here tonight to... I don't know, take care of me or something. And I didn't want her to see me here, so I kind of... freaked out on her about it and then I felt even worse and I just..."

"... invited her over for Easter," Kurt nods understandingly, as if it really does make sense now, even if Blaine himself still doesn't know exactly what went on in his mind when his mouth said those traitorous words. "So what did she say?"

"That it was a wonderful idea," Blaine says, and Kurt must hear the hesitance in his voice because he shoots him an inquiring look.

"But you don't think it is?"

"I don't know." Blaine shrugs again. "I guess it's just weird, you know? Like for the longest time I felt like I didn't have parents and now suddenly I do but they're not who I thought they were but then again I'm not who I was either and it's just... weird." He hesitates for a moment, not sure whether he should tell Kurt the other reason why he's still on the fence about his own proposition. But, he figures, if his parents decided to take him up on his offer, Kurt would have to find out sooner or later anyway. "Also, I may have told them they could stay at our place."

"You- _what?"_ Kurt gasps. "Blaine, why would you _do_ that!"

"But we have a spare room anyways!" Blaine tries to defend himself. "It doesn't make sense they would have to spend money on a hotel when we have enough space. And besides, technically it's still _their_ apartment."

"But then we couldn't-" Kurt starts and then stops, glancing at the door to Blaine's room to make sure it's shut as his cheeks turn a deep shade of pink.

"We couldn't _what?"_ Blaine asks, and it takes him a few seconds before he understands. "Oh..."

And no matter how tired he feels, no matter how painfully his head is still throbbing, there's something about the way Kurt's smiling now that throws Blaine back in time, to that moment right before Christmas when, between hot touches and not-so-soft moans, Kurt had pulled Blaine close, had pressed their bodies together and kissed Blaine to within an inch of his life before whispering in his ear, "God, I want to be inside you so bad".

It wasn't something they'd planned to happen -not that soon, anyway- but right then and there Blaine hadn't felt a shred of doubt that it was just... _right._ He'd still asked Kurt if he was sure -he'd had to, had had to make sure that this time, their first time, it was absolutely perfect- but Kurt hadn't even hesitated. He'd smiled like there was nothing he'd rather be doing, no one he'd rather be doing it with, and he'd looked Blaine straight in the eyes when he told him "Yes".

And after strong hands had carefully gotten rid of all traces of awkwardness, and soft lips had kissed away the last of his nerves, Blaine had allowed Kurt to be closer to him than anyone else before. It had been the most amazing experience of his life - heʼd thought he was going to burst at the seams, filled with something larger than life, larger than _everything,_ an overwhelming feeling that was second only to the realization that this could -and would- happen again. And again. And again.

Blaine looks up to see Kurtʼs thoughts have apparently gone in the same direction -at least if the lustful look in his hooded eyes is any indication- and he doesnʼt know what gets to him most - the inviting way in which Kurtʼs thumb has started stroking the back of Blaineʼs hand, or the lowered tone of Kurtʼs voice when Kurt starts speaking again.

"I missed you, you know," he says hoarsely. "I haven't even gotten a proper kiss since we got back from Ohio."

"I'm sorry," Blaine apologizes sheepishly, feeling suddenly guilty. If only he'd taken his health more seriously, if only he'd listened to Kurt instead of brushing it off as silly overprotectiveness, if only-

"Hey..." Kurt's finger lifts Blaine's chin until Blaine has no choice but to look him in the eye. "It's fine, okay? I was just teasing - it's fine... you just focus on getting better first, and then we can worry about kisses and... _other things..._ later. Okay?"

It's a promise, Blaine knows, and any other time he would probably have pulled Kurt close and kissed him like he'd never kissed him before, would have made sure he knew Blaine intended to hold him to that promise. Right now though, Kurt's words only remind him of the pounding in his head and the aching in his throat, and he leans back against the bed, closing his eyes once more.

He's feeling suddenly drowsy, and for a moment he's not quite sure whether the hand that starts stroking along his cheek is actually there or whether he's made it up.

"I'm tired," he says to no one in particular.

"Then sleep," a voice tells him. It sounds like Kurt's voice. And it has to be Kurt's voice, right? There's no one else in the room with them. It had sounded so far away though, and Blaine can't be sure.

"I say we could have sex even with my parents at the apartment," he mumbles. "The walls are pretty thick..."

"Go to sleep, Blaine."

"... they probably wouldn't even be staying for that long anyway. Just a couple of days. We could go a couple of days without sex, right?"

"I'm sure we could, Blaine. Now just go to sleep. I'll be here when you wake up, okay?"

"You'll be here." Blaine's not even sure why they're suddenly talking about that, but it seems important somehow. "You are here."

"I am." The hand on his cheek is back, and Blaine nuzzles against it, reveling in the comforting touch. "I'm right here with you and I'm not going anywhere. So sleep. I'll be here. I'll always be here."


	26. Epilogue

The sun is shining the way it only ever does in L.A. in the middle of summer, hot, relentless and too bright, and neither Blaine nor Kurt have any ambition at all to leave the relative cool of the shade and join their friends who are currently splashing about in the swimming pool.

"I'm gonna melt," Kurt mumbles drowsily, splayed out on his sunbed in nothing but a pair of swim shorts in an attempt to cool down even a little. Under any other circumstance Blaine would have ached to run his hands over the pale expanse of his boyfriend's chest, cover every perfect inch of it with soft kisses and sweet caresses, but as it is he is barely able to summon up the energy to _breathe._ He groans.

"At least you don't have to work tomorrow."

" _You_ wanted to do a summer internship in L.A.," Kurt tells him unforgivingly. "You're _doing_ a summer internship in L.A. Now deal with it and don't expect any pity from me."

"But Kuuuuuuuuuuuu- MERCEDES!"

Blaine is on his feet in seconds and immediately lashes out, but his tormentor is already gone, giggling as she easily dances out of his reach, the bucket she'd used to douse him with water still dangling from her hands.

"I'll get you back for this, I promise!" Blaine shouts after her, but before he can convert his words into action he's distracted by a chuckle coming from behind him, and he spins around to see Kurt pressing his fist against his mouth, hardly able to contain his laughter. "What are you laughing at?"

Kurt doesn't reply but gestures at Blaine instead - at his curls that are dripping wet, his shorts that, now heavy with water, hang just a little too low on his hips, and as Blaine looks himself over he can't help the big grin that spreads over his face.

"I guess I had that coming, didn't I?" he asks, looking appropriately contrite, and Kurt laughs.

"Well, you've only thrown _her_ into the pool like, what, five times now?"

"Six," Blaine corrects him proudly. "And I cant help it - she screams so wonderfully every time she hits the water."

He turns around as he says the last sentence, making sure he says it loud enough so Mercedes can hear it, and he laughs when she sticks out her tongue at him in response.

She'd visited him in the hospital, six months earlier. He still doesn't know how she'd found out he was even there, considering she and Kurt weren't really speaking at the time, but she'd come all the same. It had been pretty awkward, despite the heartfelt, if not somewhat clumsy apology, and even more so when Kurt had arrived just as she was about to leave. But things between them had changed from that point onward. Forgiving her had been harder for Kurt than it had been for him, but they'd made it through anyway - some friendships were too strong to be destroyed by even the heaviest of storms, and in the end it had only brought them closer. Mercedes had even arranged for her church choir to sing at the yearly fundraiser for the support group, and if that hadn't convinced Blaine she was serious about making things right again, the tight hug she'd given him afterwards certainly had. And judging by the way Sam was currently looking at her like she hung the moon, she'd managed to rectify more than one mistake she'd made.

David, on the other hand, no one had heard from again, and while it still hurts Blaine to think about it, he presumes it is for the best. He knows there will always be people who are uncomfortable around him, and in any case it is impossible to keep in touch with everybody, so really he'd much rather put his energy toward those who actually care about him.

"Blaine?" Kurt's voice shakes him out of his reverie. "Do you know what time it is?"

"Five?" Blaine says even as he starts rifling through his bag to try to locate his phone. "Oh. Five fifty-three, actually. Wanna have dinner?"

Kurt nods, and Blaine shoves the small cooler they're keeping their food and drinks in towards Kurt, reaching for his towel instead and pulling a face when he notices it's still soaking wet. He's just thrown his spare towel over his head when he hears Kurt moan, and he pulls it up just a little so he can peek at Kurt while he continues drying off his hair.

"What's wrong?"

"Salad?" Kurt asks him, holding up one of the plastic boxes Blaine had picked up on his way from work. "Seriously?"

"What's wrong with salad?" Blaine asks. "It's healthy, it's delicious - everything that's good in this world."

"It's not _greasy,"_ Kurt insists. "It said on the leaflet: 'Pills to be taken with a greasy meal.'"

The discussion about whether or not Kurt should start preventive therapy had resurfaced after Blaine's little hospital-stint, and while Blaine himself hadn't been a big fan of the idea - _those are pretty heavy chemicals Kurt, taking them each day at the same time is a big commitment_ \- Kurt had finally decided to go through with it. He was well aware that they still had to use protection, they still had to be careful; it didn't have any direct influence on their sex life. But it did make _Kurt_ feel safer, and, as he'd explained one night to Blaine, in a strange way it made him feel a little closer to Blaine. As if, rather than simply supporting Blaine in his fight against the virus, Kurt was actually there fighting alongside him.

Once his decision had been taken, Kurt had thrown himself into therapy with the same vigor he used to tackle every other hurdle life threw him. He'd scoured the Internet for months until he'd finally found a pillbox he considered worthy of keeping his PrEP pills - a stylish little metal box with an intricate flower pattern engraved in the lid. He'd also read up on everything there was to be found on pre-exposure prophylaxis, and that obviously included the entire (impressive) length of the leaflet his pills had come with. Which led them to their current discussion - and not for the first time.

"Salad is not greasy, Blaine. Actually, salad is everything _but_ greasy."

"There's dressing if you want it," Blaine retorts, unable to keep the amusement out of his voice. "I've been taking these pills longer than you have, so just trust me on this one - you'll be fine. You know as well as I do you're only looking for an excuse to order trashy Domino's anyway."

"There's nothing wrong with trashy Domino's," Kurt sulks even as he takes a resigned forkful of salad.

"Not for your trashy movie nights there's not, no- _AH!"_ Blaine ducks, but it's too little too late to completely evade being showered by the water from Kurt's bottle. "Come on, what is _up_ with everybody today? First Mercedes, now you, ... I'm starting to feel like a moving target here."

He pouts in what he hopes is a pitiable way but instead probably just looks adorable, because when Kurt leans over to press a kiss against his lips he doesn't look like he pities Blaine at all.

"ʼThose who tease a boy just want to be his toy,ʼ" he quotes sagely, and despite himself Blaine immediately bursts out laughing.

"Somehow I doubt Mercedes wants to be my ʻtoy.ʼ"

"You never know!" Kurt starts to argue, but just then his phone starts ringing, and he scrambles to find it before the call goes to voice mail.

"Hello?"

Blaine looks at him inquisitively, and Kurt mouths _It's my dad,_ and then demonstratively rolls his eyes as he says in the phone, "Yes, dad, I'm aware there's a heat wave going on. Yes, I'm taking care to drink enough. Blaine too, yes, don't worry. He's been working really hard but they all love him. Do you want me to pass him on?"

And Blaine almost chokes on his salad.

In truth, he and Mr. Hummel have come a long way since last Christmas. When Kurt had insisted on celebrating his birthday in Ohio with his family _and_ Blaine, there hadn't been a single protest or comment from his part, but still, they're far from Mercedes-make-up-levels yet, or even his own parents' level. Because even if the long weekend Blaine's family had spent together in New York over Easter break might have been a little awkward at times, the last day especially, spent indoors playing board games due to the never-ending rain, had been surprisingly pleasant.

But Blaine can't imagine how a whole night with Kurt's dad, even one where conversation wouldn't need to stray beyond the course of the game they were playing, could be anything but positively nerve-wrecking. The fact that he still calls the man Mr. Hummel even in the safety of his own head is indication enough of his comfort levels, and now Kurt wants him to _talk_ to him? _On the phone?_

"No, dad, it's fine, I'm sure he'll understand," Kurt says in reply to whatever his dad has just told him, meanwhile winking at Blaine who sighs in relief. "Yes, I'll tell him - he says hi back, by the way. You'll give my best to Carole?"

There's a short pause but then Kurt's face changes into a softer expression, and Blaine doesn't have to hear the voice on the other side of the line to know what is being said. It's what Burt tells his son after every phone call, at the end of every e-mail, each time they say their goodbyes.

_Be safe._

"I love you too, Dad."

Kurt hangs up soon after, and Blaine doesn't attempt to break the silence as Kurt puts away his phone, all too aware of the eyes on him.

"My dad says he's proud of you and to keep up the good work," Kurt tells him. "Also, he said hi. I told him you said hi back."

Blaine just nods and takes another forkful of salad. He knows what's coming - how could he not? Just like their disagreement on whether salad is acceptable dinner-material the topic pops back up time and time again, but unlike the salad-discussion Blaine doesn't usually win this one.

"You know there's gonna come a day when I won't be there to play messenger for you two, right?"

"But he hates me!"

"He doesn't _hate_ you." Kurt sighs. "To be honest, he probably thinks _you_ hate _him_ for all you do to avoid him."

"He's literally twice my size and I hurt his only son," Blaine says meekly in his defense. "I have a very good reason for avoiding him."

"His only son wasn't exactly blameless for getting hurt though," Kurt reprimands him. "And he _knows_ that. So do you. So why are we still talking about this?"

"What are we talking about?"

Brad plops down next to Blaine, glancing between the two of them as he steals a piece of cucumber and showering Blaine with tiny droplets in the process.

"Blaine's afraid of my dad," Kurt explains when it's clear Blaine's not going to say anything, and Blaine glares at him. "Basically he's just being a coward."

"Aw, Blainey-boy, you disappoint me," Brad coos, fishing a cube of cheese out of Blaine's salad. "I thought you were a fearless Knight-In-Shining-Armor, fighting HIV prejudice and making the world a better place for us Positives. And you're afraid of your father-in-law?"

"Not my father-in-law," Blaine says unwillingly, "and I'm not afraid of him, I'm just... _intimidated."_

"Just pretend he's not wearing any clothes next time you talk to him," Brad suggests, and Blaine nearly spits out his salad. "It's what I do whenever I see Nick's parents - works like a charm. Well, not so much with his _mom_ maybe, but still..."

"I am _not_ picturing Kurt's dad _naked,"_ Blaine says determinedly as he glances at Kurt. They _are_ talking about his _dad,_ after all. "Also, stop stealing my food! Seriously, dude, get your own dinner!"

He swats at Brad's hand just as he's about to grab a piece of tomato, and Brad laughs when he misses.

"Already had one," he says, making a show of putting the tomato into his mouth. "It's just these time zones are seriously messing with my eating schedule."

"Well, maybe next time you can adjust your eating schedule to fit the time zone you're in, like the rest of us," Blaine reprimands him, a little triumphant when this time he manages to successfully shield the three remaining salad leaves from his hungry friend. "Now are you done pestering us or do you actually have something to say?"

"Well, I wanted to invite you two to play pool volley with us," Brad says, gesturing at the pool where Brittany, Santana, Sam, Nick, and Mercedes are waving back at him. "If you're done here?"

He looks pointedly at their now-empty salad boxes, but Kurt immediately shakes his head.

"We've only _just_ finished dinner, Brad," he says. "Maybe later, okay? Besides, it's too hot to be playing volleyball right now."

"Nonsense," Brad dismisses him. "It's only too hot because you're not in the water. Besides, physical activity is good for your digestion."

"I'm not quite sure that is scientifically sound..."

"You know, Blaine," Brad starts as he turns back towards Blaine, in a tone that holds a promise of mischief, "I've seen you throw Mercedes in the pool a couple of times now, but I really feel your technique could use some polishing. Would you like me to show you?"

"Brad, no..." Blaine says warningly, but that's as far as he gets, because exactly three seconds later a loud cheer erupts from his so-called friends as he lands butt-first in the swimming pool. He reaches the surface just in time to see Kurt back away while Brad chases after him, and for a moment he's sure Kurt will be able to escape. And to his credit, he does put up more of a fight than Blaine had, but really it's not a surprise when he, not quite as tall as Brad and, more importantly, not nearly as well-trained, finally ends up following Blaine's example, flying through the air in a graceful arc before breaking the water surface and causing a tremendous splash, soaking Blaine for the third time in less than an hour. He surfaces with a gasp, shaking his head in an attempt to orient himself.

"Are you ok?" Blaine asks as he swims over to him.

"I'm going to kill him," Kurt says furiously, wiping the water out of his eyes and the hair out of his face. "Did you hear that, Brad? I'm going to _kill_ you!"

But Brad just laughs and bombs the pool while Nick yells: "No killing! Nobody gets to kill my boyfriend but me! Nobody!"

"Seriously though, are you ok?" Blaine repeats his question as he takes Kurt in his arms. Nick's shout has prompted the others to start a concerted effort to try and push Brad under water, so they have a moment. "He didn't hurt you, did he?"

"I'm fine," Kurt says, still a little cranky as he checks his arms front and back, and Blaine follows his movements worriedly. "He's really freakinʼ strong, though - I think I might have a bruise or two in the morning. Nothing I won't recover from." He gives Blaine a reassuring smile and drapes his arms around his neck. "Seriously, don't look at me like that. I'm _fine."_

He presses a kiss against Blaine's lips, but Blaine's still not quite convinced. He knows from experience how much Kurt hates surprise tosses into the pool.

"I can kill him for you, you know," he says. "If you want me to."

"And risk Nick's eternal wrath for having ordered his boyfriend's murder?" Kurt asks, an eyebrow raised. "I don't think so. I'll get back at him, don't worry, but for now I'll just have to learn to deal with the fact that your best friend is an asshole."

"Nah," Blaine says, scrunching his nose and pulling Kurt just a little bit closer. "My _second-best_ friend can be kind of a jerk, I'll admit. My _best_ friend though... my best friend is actually pretty awesome."

"Oh, really?"

There's an air of innocence to Kurt's voice, but the sparkle in his eyes tells Blaine he knows exactly what's coming.

"Really," he nods sagely. "For starters he's really sweet - he's easily the most compassionate person I know. He's also really smart..."

"Uh-huh?"

"... and talented..."

"Go on..."

"... and really, _really_ hot."

"Sounds like a real catch," Kurt says, a little breathless despite his obvious effort not to be. They're close enough that Blaine can feel Kurt's breath ghost over his lips, and suddenly there's nothing left of the playfulness the conversation had turned to just moments ago, nothing left but him and Kurt and the way their eyes keep flicking down to the other's mouth.

"Oh, he is," Blaine assures him, not exactly the epitome of calm himself. "As I said... he's probably the most awesome person on the planet... and I'm madly in love with him."

Their mouths crash together and there's nothing modest about this kiss. There doesn't have to be: they're at a private pool, and their friends don't care if their making out gets a little heated at times. Not that Blaine would be bothered if they did, although from the catcalling he figures they don't have to worry.

"Let's go," he whispers against Kurt's lips, "I wanna kick your ass at pool volley."

"In your dreams," Kurt retorts mischievously.

"Winner gets to pick tonight's movie?"

"Deal."

Blaine watches Kurt swim to the other side of the pool, and he smiles. Kurt is no match for him in any sport and they both know it, but this isn't about winning or losing. Because Blaine would happily let Kurt pick the movie every night for the rest of their lives if it meant they were together, and he knows Kurt feels the same way.

Which is why half an hour later he has no qualms smashing the ball right next to Kurt when Santana passes the ball to him to make the winning point.

"I'm thinking Star Trek!" he shouts at his disgruntled boyfriend, and then laughs when Kurt sticks out his tongue in reply.

_Yes,_ he thinks, as he swims over to comfort a pouting Kurt, _life is great._ His health has never been better, he has a job he loves, he has friends he can trust - he even has his family in a way he never had them before, and for all the exercise in choosing the right words they may still prove to be at times, he knows he wouldn't miss them for the world. Above all, though, he has his boyfriend, his Kurt, whom he adores to the point it would probably scare the living hell out of him if he wasn't so certain Kurt feels exactly the same way. But he does, and they do, and it's more than he ever dared to dream of.

He doesn't know what next year will bring, or next month, or even next week, but he doesn't care. He's spent so much of his life living in the past - _What if I'd never met Brad?-_ or in the future _-What if Kurt doesn't like me back? What if he does?-,_ and it is high time he started enjoying the present. Because next year, next month, next week, even tomorrow, ... they don't exist. Not really.

But _today_ exists. The beautiful boy in his arms exists. And Blaine will be damned if he doesn't enjoy every second of it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Come find me on Tumblr (letmegiveyoumynumbah) - I'm awkward and I'm horrible at being social even on the internet so I'm not sure why you would, but if you have a prompt or any kind of question about the fic or HIV in general, I'll be happy to help! Once again thank you for taking this journey with me, and see you around some time!


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